THE  SEAMLESS 
o    ROBE    © 


CARTER 


THE  SEAMLESS   ROBE 


THE 

SEAMLESS    ROBE 


BY 
ADA   CARTER 


'  There  is  neither  Jew  nor  Greek,  there  is  neither  bond 
nor  free,  there  is  neither  male  nor  female:  for  ye 
are  all  one  in  Christ  Jesus." 

'  Christ  is  the  head  of  the  church:  and  he  is  the  saviour 
of  the  bodv." 


'  Realism  will  at  length  be  found  to  surpass  imagination, 
and  to  suit  and  savour  all  luerature." 

—MARY  BAKER  (?.  EDDY. 


Hew 
THE  PLATT  &  PECK  CO. 


Copyright,  1907 
JAMES  D.  PINKER 


Copyright,  1909 
NEWOLD  PUBLISHING  CO. 

Copyright,  1912 
BY  THE  PLATT  &  PECK  CO. 


DEDICATION 

To  all  nations  and  all  kindreds  this  book  is  dedicated 
and  sent  forth  upon  its  journey  through  the  world, 
with  the  desire  that  it  may  speed  Love's  sweet  message 
from  city  to  city,  there  proclaiming  from  every  house- 
top the  glory  of  a  promise  in  swift  process  of  fulfil- 
ment; going  also  out  into  the  highways  and  hedges 
and,  with  tender  compulsion,  bidding  the  hungry 
"  come  in  " ;  whispering  the  while  to  the  waiting  heart 
the  mighty  truth  that  holiness  and  health,  twin  off- 
spring of  Soul,  dwell  ever  hand  in  hand;  bidding  the 
dormant  heart  awake  and  know  that  the  veil  of  mate- 
rialism is  rent  in  twain  from  the  top  to  the  bottom; 
and  upraising  the  earth-bound  eyes  to  behold  Man, 
Godlike  in  his  immortality,  Chris Hike  in  his  perfect 
health. 


2134951 


CONTENTS 


PROLOGUE 11 

PART  I 
DRAMATIS   PERSONS 

OR 

TANGLED  THREADS  IN  THE  HAND  OF  MAN 

CHAPTER 

I.  MIST 21 

II.  SHADOW-LAND 27 

III.  MENTAL  ASSASSINATION 30 

IV.  THE  MESMERISM  OF  FEAR;  OR,  "THROUGH  THE 

VALLEY  OF  THE  SHADOW  " 89 

V.  THE    UNBURIED    DEAD;    OR,    "  THE    FRUIT    OF 

His  BODY  FOR  THE  SIN  OF  His  SOUL  "   .  49 

VI.  THE  KINGDOM  OF  HEAVEN 59 

VII.  THE  WORLD,  THE  FLESH  AND  EVIL       ...  63 

PART  II 
MORTALS    WEAVING    IN    THE    DARK 

VIII.  A  MAN  AND  A  WOMAN 75 

IX.  DAY    DREAMS      . 86 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTEH  PAGH 

X.  PARTIAL   ECLIPSK 93 

XI.  TOTAL  ECLIPSE 102 

XII.  DERELICT 109 

XIII.  "MAN,  WHOSE  BREATH  is  IN  His  NOSTRILS"  119 

XIV.  ANGOLA 127 

PART  III 
A  THREAD   OF  GOLD   IN   THE   HAND  OF  GOD 

XV.  THE  MIDNIGHT  CALL 141 

XVI.  NEWNESS    OF    LIFE 151 

XVII.  EBB    AND    FLOW 156 

XVIII.  HUMAN  LIMITATIONS 165 

XIX.  SELF-DECEPTION 174 

XX.  MENTAL  FERMENTATION 178 

XXI.  A  BARQUE — WITH  WHITE  SAILS  UNFURLED  182 

XXII.  CALLED 191 

XXIII.  DOMESTIC   TYRANNY 199 

PART  IV 
BROKEN  SHUTTLES  UPON  THE  TABLE  OF  TIME 

XXIV.  THE   RECANTATION 213 

XXV.  HATE ' 223 

XXVI.  CASTLES  BUILT  UPON  SHIFTING  SANDS  .  229 

XXVII.  THE    FLOOD-TIDE     • 238 

XXVIII.  A     BARQUE  —  STORM-TOSSED     UPON     A 

STORMY  SEA 243 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXIX.  EGYPT 250 

XXX.  MESMERIZED 254 

XXXI.  CLOUDS  OF  SENSE 263 

XXXII.  CONFUSION 272 

XXXIII.  THE  MAN-MADE  HELL  OF  MAN  ...  280 

PART  V 

WHITE    WARP   AND   WOOF    IN    THE    LOOM  OF 

MIND 

XXXIV.  LOOKING  TOWARDS  THE   LIGHT    .      .      .  293 
XXXV.  THE    QUESTION 302 

XXXVI.  THE   ANSWER 314 

XXXVII.  THE  SWING  OF  THE  PENDULUM  .      .      .  328 

XXXVIII.  PENIEL 337 

XXXIX.  OUT   OF   DARKNESS    INTO    His   MARVEL- 
LOUS LIGHT 344; 

XL.  A  LONELY  BARQUE  UPON   THE   MIGHTY 

DEEP 355 

XLI.  SCALING  THE  HIGHER  HEIGHTS  .      .      .  360 

EPILOGUE  368 


PROLOGUE 

Lo,  this  only  have  I  found,  that  God  hath  made  man  upright. 

— Ecclesiastes. 

I  KNOW  not  how  most  books  are  written. 

I  know  how  this  one  came  to  me — oft  troubling  me  in 
the  long  night  watch,  when  otherwise  I  would  have 
slept;  oft  flashing  across  my  busy  path  and,  with  soft 
compelling  touch,  bidding  me  "  Be  still  and  write  " ; 
and  always,  when  it  came,  filling  my  heart  with  a  great 
desire,  thus  stilling  my  life  with  the  silence  of  prayer. 

I,  the  prisoner,  lay  upon  my  bed. 

The  June  sunshine  streamed  in  through  the  open  win- 
dow, and  joined  hands  with  the  mirror.  Together, 
they  threw  gay  discs  of  light — bright-hued  as  is  the 
opal  fire — upon  my  prison  walls,  there  to  coquet  among 
a  pretence  of  climbing  roses — roses  drawn  by  a  hand 
that  loved  them,  drawn  even  while  they  grew.  How 
else  did  they  speak  of  summer  gardens  and  sweet  June 
life?  How  else  did  they  whisper  to  the  gentle  breeze 
that  seemed  to  stir  their  leaves?  How  else  did  the  bud 
speak  so  clearly  of  promise,  and  the  bloom  smile  with 
the  rapture  of  hope  passed  into  fruition  ?  I  had  chosen 
that  paper  in  spite  of  protest.  "  The  carmine  will 
fade,"  they  told  me.  No  matter!  My  will  was  law: 
but  even  as  paste  touched  paper,  I  sighed,  realising 
that  always  I  commanded,  except  in  the  one  thing  for 
which  I  greatly  longed — the  one  thing  that  I  had  asked 
of  life  for  many  weary  years. 


12  PROLOGUE 

That  midsummer  day,  my  restless  glance  left  the 
dancing  discs  of  light  and  turned  outward,  there  to 
linger  momentarily  upon  the  grace  and  beauty  of  the 
silver  birch.  The  brightness  of  its  summer  robe,  the 
tender  whiteness  of  its  bark  and  the  gentle  yielding  of 
its  rounded  limbs  held  my  thought  to  love — to  love 
most  passing  fair,  but  all  too  frail,  and  thus  imper- 
fect, holding  within  itself  the  seeds  of  death,  the  doom 
of  all  mortality. 

Roving  onward,  deep  crimson  and  palest  rose  caught 
my  eye  and  chained  it,  a  willing  captive,  to  the  queenly 
rhododendron,  whose  crowns  of  royal  splendour  gave 
token  of  the  lavish  month  of  June.  What  a  wealth  of 
living  colour  was  there !  Its  charm  increased,  its  beauty 
doubled,  as,  earth  meeting  sky,  each  wound  loving  arms 
about  the  other  in  the  clear  waters  of  the  lake.  Tossed 
upon  the  bright  blue  of  reflected  ether,  lay  round  clouds, 
richly  white.  Nestling  within  their  bosom,  half  hid- 
den, half  revealed,  softly  blushed  the  rhododendron. 
Now  meeting  with  the  quick  embrace  of  love,  now  part- 
ing with  a  lingering  touch,  the  boughs  of  noble  elm 
and  bending  birch  caressed  the  whole,  picturing  the 
while  burnished  greens  and  purple  greys  upon  the 
shining  surface  beneath  their  feet. 

I,  the  prisoner,  manacled  to  my  bed,  turned  face  to 
pillow  and  groaned  within  my  heart,  "  How  long,  dear 
God!  how  long!  .  .  .  The  glory  of  heaven  upon 
earth  out  there:  within  my  soul — the  pangs  of  hell! 
And  betwixt  the  two — a  great  gulf  fixed !  " 

One  day  I  found  upon  my  bed  a  little  book:  black 
it  was,  and  ordinary. 

Three  times  I  threw  it  from  me.  Three  times  he 
brought  it  back. 


PROLOGUE  13 

Yet  once  again  he  pleaded,  "  Beloved,  if  not  for 
your  own,  for  my  sake,  and  for  theirs ! " 

"  Sweet,"  I  said  at  last,  "  for  your  sake  and  for 
theirs,  I  will  try  to  understand." 

I  held  the  thing  within  my  hand;  I  turned  it  here, 
I  turned  it  there.  Black  it  was  without,  and  dark 
within.  I  could  not  understand. 

A  woman  stood  beside  my  bed.  Soft-voiced  she 
was,  and  sweet  of  face.  "  Nay,"  she  said,  "  it  is  not 
black  nor  dark  within,  but  of  the  purest  gold." 

I  thought  her  mad. 

Once  more  she  spoke,  "  There  is  a  way,  but  only 
one;  take  it,  and  understand." 

"  This  way,"  I  asked,  "  whither  leads  it,  and  its 
name?  " 

"  It  leads,"  she  said,  "  to  Freedom,  and  its  name  is 
Silent  Prayer." 

I  held  her  with  astonished  gaze. 

Then  loud  I  laughed  and  long.  It  was  so  very  droll ! 
Despair  sat  by  my  side;  Death  reached  out  cold  white 
arms.  Pray!  I  had  prayed  while  the  days  passed 
into  weeks,  full-laden  with  the  burden  of  their  tears. 
I  had  prayed  while  those  weeks  merged  slowly  into 
months  of  that  unholy  calm  which  is  the  devil's 
rhapsody — when  the  eyes  are  dry  and  the  lips  are 
still,  save  that  perchance  they  twitch  into  a  smile  at 
the  sight  of  another's  tears.  Kind  fools !  to  weep  in 
pity,  when  the  bleeding  heart,  its  passion  spent,  and 
the  tortured  limbs,  all  tempest-torn,  are  one  in  their 
voiceless  pain!  Blind  fools!  to  weep  in  pity  for  that 
which  passeth  tears!  ...  I  had  prayed  whilst 
from  out  the  womb  of  that  Satanic  calm  dropped  forth 
the  still-born  years.  Ah  me!  that  laboured  lingering 


14  PROLOGUE 

birth  with  its  foul  fruitage  all  of  woe!  Ah  me!  those 
hopeless,  helpless,  endless  years !  I  marvelled  when 
men  called  them  living,  for  7  knew  them  to  be  dead. 
The  devil's  horrid  counterfeit  of  life,  they  lay  behind 
me  and  before,  a  ghastly  throng;  they  mocked  me 
where  they  lay;  the  face  of  each  defaced,  the  form 
of  each  defiled,  by  the  cruel  hand  of  a  dread  monotony. 
.  .  .  I  had  prayed  whilst  the  nights  of  hell's  own 
revelry  gave  hideous  promise  of  eternal  woe,  and  thus 
— the  end!  Pray?  oh!  my  mirth,  it  shook  me  merrily! 
Pray?  to  understand  a  thing  like  this? 

Once  more  the  answer  came,  "  It  is  the  only  way." 
And  thus  she  left  me. 

That  day,  Death  held  his  face  to  mine,  and  promised 
me  deep  sleep  and  rest  from  pain.  Almost,  I  let  his 
lips  rest  on  my  own.  But  Doubt  sprang  up  and  shouted 
in  my  ear;  "  How  know  you  that  his  promise  is  not 
vain?  There  is  a  life  beyond!" 

Again  Death  whispered  to  my  heart,  but  now,  I  knew 
he  mocked  my  need,  though  I  knew  not  how  I  knew  it. 
Methought  I  heard  hell's  laughter,  so  soft !  so  low !  and 
yet,  though  soft,  too  subtle  to  be  sweet.  I  turned  me 
in  my  chains,  and  as  I  turned,  a  little  child  climbed  on 
my  bed,  and  wound  soft  arms  about  my  neck.  So 
small  she  was  and  weak,  she  held  me  back.  Perforce, 
I  prayed  once  more.  But  first,  I  placed  my  finger 
on  my  lips,  and  thus  I  raised  my  heart  to  God. 

And  lo !  within  mine  hand,  beneath  mine  eye,  I  found 
a  thing  of  gold.  Its  very  shape  had  changed!  A 
key,  it  seemed  to  be,  of  strange  device  and  strength 
most  rare.  And  right  within  its  heart,  behold,  a 
pearl !  and  deeply  graved  upon  that  pearl,  these  words ; 
"  This  is  the  key :  unlock  the  '  Word.'  Search  deep 


PROLOGUE  15 

within  its  very  soul;  find  there,  and  keep,  that  all- 
inclusive  gift  of  God  to  man — the  Truth." 

I  placed  the  key  within  the  lock.  Slowly  at  first, 
then  quickly,  and  more  quickly  yet  it  turned. 

Now  stilled  with  wonder,  now  rent  by  doubt;  anon, 
borne  upward  by  the  might  of  Hope — so  strong  of 
wing  and  eagle-eyed — I  searched;  I  found;  through 
all  eternity  I  keep — the  Truth. 

Through  all  eternity  I  thank  my  God  who  gave  the 
Truth  to  me.  I  thank  that  child  of  God,  that  brave 
New  England  woman,  who,  by  the  grace  of  God,  has 
wrought  a  key  so  fine  and  strong,  that  it  has  opened 
wide  the  Word  of  God,  and  thrown  upon  the  sacred 
page  the  clear  white  light  of  love  divine. 

We,  who  try  to  follow,  guess  a  little  what  it  must 
have  cost  to  make  that  key  of  purest  gold.  We  know, 
though  only  something,  of  the  fire  through  which  she 
must  have  passed,  when  throwing  the  searchlight  of 
this  revelation  upon  the  darkened  thought  of  ages. 
And  knowing,  though  so  little,  we  yet  thank  God 
Almighty  for  her  patience  and  her  love. 

And  thus  it  was,  that  the  white-winged  angel  Hope 
first  came  to  me,  and  waked  my  slumbering  soul  from 
lethargy  to  life:  while  her  gentle  sister,  Faith,  so  soft 
of  tread,  so  still  of  voice,  stood  by  my  side,  and  pointed 
to  the  Light,  till  their  beauteous  mother,  Love — the 
greatest  of  the  three — holding  a  hand  of  each,  bent 
over  me  and  pressed  upon  my  weary  brow — the  kiss 
of  peace. 

And  now,  together,  they  pointed  to  the  Light.  And 
within  the  Light,  I  saw  a  crown,  and  upon  that  crown 
a  great  word  written — a  word  so  high,  and  broad,  and 


16  PROLOGUE 

long,  and  deep,  that  I  could  not  read  its  name  aright. 
But  as  I  tried,  and  tried  again,  the  days  rose  up 
and  clapped  their  hands,  then  bid  me  merrily,  Adieu. 
For  the  weeks  were  there  in  joyous  mood.  But  scarcely 
had  they  smiled  upon  my  path  than  the  gladsome 
months  were  with  me.  And  then — I  lost  all  count  of 
time,  for  its  day  was  done,  and  it  meekly  bowed  before 
a  far-off  glimmer  of  Eternity:  for  I  had  learned  to 
read  that  word  aright,  though  still  I  knew  not  all  its 
depth.  No  mortal  may  know  that;  for  the  measure 
of  that  word  is  All  Eternity.  But  even  now  much  may 
be  known;  for  even  here,  the  mortal  may  begin  to 
put  on  Immortality.  And  as  my  life  is  filled  with 
gratitude,  my  heart  sends  forth  a  long,  full  note  of 
praise,  and  I  bow  more  low  than  I  ever  dreamed  that  I 
could  bow,  and  yet !  not  low  enough.  For  as  my  hope 
soars  higher  than  I  ever  dreamed  a  human  hope  could 
soar,  my  life  is  shaken  by  a  mighty  sound,  sublime  and 
wonderful !  Surging  about  my  onward  path,  it  sweeps 
a  matter-world  away  and  throws  a  chastened  suppliant 
at  the  feet  of  Mind.  Prostrate  I  lay,  till  I,  my  pride 
rebuked,  learned  a  great  lesson  of  Eternity — that  Hope, 
to  be  true  Hope,  must  first  be  shorn  of  mad  ambition's 
earthy  wings,  ere  it  may  wear  the  vesture  of  humility 
and  rise  on  pinions  all  divine.  Now  my  whole  being 
bows  before  the  Majesty  of  God;  and  once  again,  more 
clearly  than  before,  I  hear  that  mighty  sound — surely 
an  impartation  of  an  endless  harmony !  And  lo !  em- 
braced within  that  glorious  song,  yet  ever  individual,  I 
hear  that  same  full  note  of  praise ;  but  fuller,  stronger, 
purer  than  before.  Now  holy  awe  lays  chastening 
hand  upon  my  head,  as  I  whisper  to  my  heart,  "  Can 
this  thing  be?  May  man,  while  yet  on  earth,  make 


PROLOGUE  17 

one  with  that  sweet  choir  above? "  For  answer,  I 
swiftly  search  the  "  little  book  "  within  my  hand,  and 
there  I  read  of  Man,  the  work  of  God.  Man !  as  he 
is,  as  he  always  has  been,  and  as  he  ever  more  shall 
be, — the  perfect  offspring  of  the  only  Mind.  Now, 
as  I  read  and  read  again,  lo !  far  and  wide  throughout 
the  vastness  of  Infinity,  I  see  that  "  Fourth "  for 
which  a  matter-world  has  searched  in  vain.  And  as 
I  look  and  look  again,  I  hear  a  voice  as  the  voice  of 
many  angels  say,  "  Come  unto  me  and  live."  Hearing, 
I  must  needs  obey,  and  thus  perpetual  peace  is  mine, 
for  one  by  one  the  fetters  fall  away.  And  now,  with 
steadfast  glance  upheld,  I  see  Man  roam — strong,  free, 
new-born — amid  the  height  and  depth,  the  breadth, 
the  length,  the  wealth  of  Mind.  Upon  Purity's  white 
pinions,  far  outspread  and  all  begleamed  with  light, 
he  rises,  ever  rises,  from  sense  to  Soul,  till  lo !  he  stands 
revealed — the  image  and  the  likeness  of  his  God !  And 
thus  I  see  Man  live  forever,  individualised  in  infinite 
variety,  high-poised  within  the  Eternal  Three,  upheld 
by  the  Almighty  power  of  that  Immortal  "  Fourth  " — 

AT  ONE  WITH  GOOD. 


PAET  I 
DRAMATIS   PERSONS 

OR 

TANGLED  THREADS  IN  THE 
HAND  OF  MAN 

All  the  world's  a  stage 

And  all  the  men  and  women  merely  players: 
They  have   their  exits  and  their  entrances. 

— SHAKESPEARE. 


CHAPTER    I 

MIST 

What  is  life?    'Tis  but  a  madness. 

What  is  life?     A  mere  illusion, 

Fleeting  pleasure,  fond  delusion, 
Short-lived  joy  that  ends  in  sadness, 

Whose  most  constant  substance  seems 

But  the  dream  of  other  dreams. 

— Calderon. 

MOST  of  the  room  was  in  shadow,  but  the  carefully 
arranged  blind  permitted  a  strong  light  to  rest  upon 
the  couch  whereon  lay,  at  full  length,  a  young  man. 

Another  man,  in  regulation  frock-coat  of  sombre 
hue,  sat  before  his  desk,  moving  nothing  but  his  right 
hand.  With  firmly  held  pen  he  made  notes  in  a  dreary 
folio  before  him. 

Suddenly,  the  stillness  was  broken.  Very  quietly, 
the  recumbent  man  asked  a  momentous  question. 

"  How  long  have  I  to  live  ?  " 

Sir  James  Norton  placed  his  pen  across  the  rack 
with  some  deliberation.  He  was  a  little  taken  aback 
by  the  cool  delivery  of  the  unexpected  query ;  and  it 
was  not  until  his  trained  eye  detected  a  certain  hard- 
ness in  his  patient's  look,  that  he  realised  how  com- 
pletely the  sick  man  understood  the  situation. 

"  It  is  clearly  impossible  to  speak  with  certainty 
upon  such  a  matter,"  he  replied  gently ;  "  we  must 
hope  for  the  best.  You  are  a  young  man,  and  of 
course  that  is  in  your  favour." 

21 


22  THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

The  Duke  looked  steadily  into   the   doctor's   face. 

"  How  long  have  I  to  live  ?  "  He  repeated  the  words 
calmly,  though  a  little  wearily. 

"  I  cannot  say,"  the  doctor  answered,  with  the  faint- 
est touch  of  asperity  in  his  tone.  Then,  compelled  by 
the  steadiness  of  the  quiet  gaze  fixed  upon  him,  he 
added :  "  Of  course  all  excitement  must  be  avoided,  for 
another  attack  of  hemorrhage  like  the  last  might  be 
very  weakening  to  the  system." 

"  Thanks ! " 

The  young  man  rose  and  stood  for  a  moment  deep 
in  thought. 

Then  he  returned  the  prescription  which  Sir  James 
had  just  handed  him,  gently  remarking,  "  For  many 
years  I  have  taken  much  medicine;  on  the  whole,  I 
think  I  will  not  take  any  more ; "  and  the  hardness  of 
the  mouth  relaxed  a  little,  for  the  Duke  was  smiling. 

At  the  street  door  he  turned  and  said,  with  the 
gentle  courtesy  which  always  endeared  him  to  those 
with  whom  he  came  in  touch,  "  I  am  grateful  for  your 
attentive  care  of  my  case — very  grateful  to  you  for 
arranging  the  consultation  here  to-day.  As  you  know, 
I  am  anxious  about  my  wife.  She  gains  strength  very 
slowly  and  we  try  to  spare  her  as  much  as  possible, 
for  to-morrow  we  go  North, — our  little  son  is  to  be 
christened  this  week." 

A  minute  later  Sir  James  re-entered  his  consulting 
room.  He  stood  for  a  moment  thinking  deeply,  then 
he  tore  his  rejected  prescription  neatly  in  half  and, 
with  a  manner  still  preoccupied,  consigned  it  to  the 
waste-paper  basket. 

No  one  knew  better  than  the  celebrated  physician 
that  drugs  were  entirely  useless  in  such  a  case  as  this; 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE  23 

but,  of  course,  he  must  follow  the  usual  routine  and 
send  his  patient  from  stethoscope  to  pharmacy.  And 
here  a  thought,  long  dormant,  woke  to  vigorous  action 
and  fretted  the  doctor's  rather  weary  brain;  uncon- 
sciously, but  none  the  less  deliberately,  he  turned  his 
back  upon  the  thought.  It  grew  in  strength  and  faced 
him.  This  time  he  ordered  it  away.  But  the  thought 
had  made  its  home  with  him  too  long  and  now  became 
importunate.  When  had  it  entered,  unrecognised, 
into  his  mind  ?  Futile  question !  Perhaps-  in  boy- 

(  hood's  day,  when,  Homer  in  hand,  he  had  sought  the 
assistance  of  his  Liddell  and  Scott.  Unconsciously 
impelled  by  the  worrying  thought,  he  now  turned  to 
his  bookshelves  and  took  down  his  old-time  companion 
which  had  rested  there  undisturbed  for  many  years. 
Soon  he  found  that  which  he,  half  protestingly, 
sought. 

"  3>ap/ia/cov,"  (Pharmakon)  ;  "  a  drug,  whether  heal- 
ing or  noxious."  Then,  in  Homer,  "  a  healing  remedy, 
medicine  "  generally  applied  outwardly.  Next,  in  the 
later  classics,  "  an  enchanted  potion,  spell,  incanta- 
tion." Next,  "  a  poison  (as  Shakespeare  uses  drug)" 

Turning  to  the  derivatives  he  found : — "  <£apju,aKeta," 
(pharmakeia)  ;  "  the  using  of  medicine,"  "  pharmacy." 
Generally,  "  the  use  of  any  kind  of  drugs,  potions, 
spells,  $c.;  "  also  "  poisoning  "  and  "  witchcraft." 

Again,  "  (frapfuucevs,"  (pharmakeus),  "  a  poisoner^ 
sorcerer;  "  and,  in  later  Greek,  "  a  druggist  apothe- 
cary" 

The  philological  connection  between  the)  original 
Greek  and  the  various  English  derivatives  was  ob- 
vious. 

Sir  James   Norton  was  a  religious  man  and  knew 


S4  THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

his  Bible  well.  He  read  it  more  often  than  any  other 
book — works  on  materia  medica  excepted.  The  beauty 
of  the  Old  Testament  phraseology  especially  appealed 
to  his  love  of  euphony,  and  he  constantly  read  it  for 
the  mere  pleasure  of  indulging  his  poetical  sense. 
Now  thought  played  upon  the  words  which  he  had 
just  studied  and  reminded  him  that  recourse  to  such 
agencies  is  repeatedly  forbidden  in  the  Bible.  The 
matter  worried  him.  He  had  tried  all  his  life  to  obey 
the  teaching  of  his  orthodox  religion,  but  of  late  he 
had  become  more  and  more  dissatisfied,  as  he  noted  one 
self-evident  inconsistency  therein  after  another.  Now 
he  shut  the  Greek  Lexicon  with  an  impatient  gesture 
and  sighed  as  he  returned  it  to  its  place. 

Throwing  himself  heavily  into  an  armchair,  he  gazed 
discontentedly  around  his  consulting  room.  Those 
four  walls  had  looked  upon  much  that  was  not  pleas- 
ant. To-day,  an  atmosphere  of  gloom  seemed  to 
emanate  unrelieved  from  the  sad  brown  of  their  dis- 
temper. There  were  times,  and  this  was  one  of  them, 
when  the  whole  room  became  unbearable  to  Sir  James, 
for  it  seemed  to  whisper  to  him  of  women's  tears  and 
of  men's  white-faced  sorrow. 

Upon  that  sofa  had  lain  a  world-worn  gambler. 

"  Give  up  the  cards  " — and  the  man  had  laughed — 
"  for  the  sake  of  my  wife  and  child !  Why,  doctor, 
the  wife  is  dead,  and  I  am  glad,  for  she  was  often 
hungry  here;  and  the  girl — the  girl  is  worse  than 
dead,  and  I  am  glad ;  for  she  was  often  hungry,  too ! 
Give  up  the  cards !  Why,  man !  you  know  that  I 
cannot! " 

Leaning  against  that  mantelshelf,  the  weary-faced 
boy — too  weary  to  laugh — had  said,  "  Doctor!  of 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE  25 

course  I  will  go  abroad  if  you  wish  it ;  where  the  sun 
shines  and  the  sky  is  blue !  "  and  then  coughing,  he 
had  stained  his  handkerchief  red.  "  Why  not  ?  There 
are  wine  and  women  everywhere ;  and  .  .  .  the 
money  will  last  the  year!  " 

There  had  sat  a  wailing  woman,  repentant,  because 
in  pain. 

"  Doctor,"  she  had  cried,  "  tell  me  that  the  child 
will  not  inherit  this  awful  craving.  I  had  rather  that 
it  should  die  unborn ! "  Upon  that  same  chair  had 
sat,  years  later,  that  same  woman's  child,  and  she, 
in  her  turn,  had  wailed,  "  Doctor,  you  know  that  I 
cannot  help  it!  You  know  that  the  thing  is  in- 
herited. " 

And  hearing,  Sir  James  had  remembered.  He  must, 
he  thought,  have  drunk  in  with  his  mother's  milk  the 
knowledge  of  "  a  jealous  God,  visiting  the  iniquity  of 
the  fathers  upon  the  children,  unto  the  third  and  fourth 
generation  of  them  that  hate  me." 

But  why,  my  brother,  stop  there?  Go  on;  and  re- 
member the  glorious  promise  which  awaits  every  child 
of  man,  who  elects  to  rise  above  the  thraldom  of  the 
flesh  and  learns  to  love,  thus  ceasing  to  hate.  Is  it 
not  also  written,  "  and  showing  mercy  unto  thousands 
of  them  that  love  me  and  keep  my  commandments  "? 
Nay,  more !  Is  it  not  further  written,  "  What  mean 
ye,  that  ye  use  this  proverb  concerning  the  land  of 
Israel,  saying,  The  fathers  have  eaten  sour  grapes, 
and  the  children's  teeth  are  set  on  edge.  As  I  live, 
saith  the  Lord  God,  ye  shall  not  have  occasion  any 
more  to  use  this  proverb  in  Israel." 

To-day  the  great  London  physician  realised  that 
for  years,  while  longing  to  help,  he  had  yet  stood 


26  THE     SEAMLESS    ROBE 

helpless  by,  unable  to  cure  man's  sickness,  because  he 
could  not  make  man  cease  from  sin ;  and,  as  he  rumi- 
nated upon  his  life  of  unavailing  toil,  a  tired  look  stole 
over  Sir  James'  sensitive  face. 

"  How  seldom  have  I  cured!  "  he  exclaimed ;  "  how 
seldom  have  I  done  more  than  alleviate ! " 

Almost  passionately  he  muttered ;  "  I'm  weary  of 
this.  For  thirty  years  to  battle  with  disease!  for 
thirty  years  to  think,  to  work,  and  even  to  pray,  as 
I  have  done — as  hundreds  of  other  men  have  done — 
and  to  get  no  further!  To  find  no  certainty  any- 
where; nothing  but  vague  hypotheses;  and  always  in 
the  end — death!" 

Aye,  doctor;  for  thirty  years  to  battle,  to  think,  to 
work,  and  even  to  pray!  And  for  your  honest  effort, 
to  receive  much  money  and  more  fame,  but  always 
the  heartache  which  is  interlinked  with  the  secret  con- 
viction of  failure !  Pause,  Doctor,  a  moment  and  listen 
to  an  echo  from  the  past : — 

"  One  thing  is  needful  and  Mary  hath  chosen  that 
good  part." 

"  There  is  a  spirit  in  man :  and  the  inspiration  of 
the  Almighty  giveth  them  understanding." 


CHAPTER   II 

SHADOW-LAND 

Tell  me  not  in  mournful  numbers, 

Life  is  but  an  empty  dream. 
For  the  soul  is  dead  that  slumbers, 

And  things  are  not  what  they  seem. 

— Longfellow. 

WHILE  Sir  James  Norton  thus  soliloquised,  his  distin- 
guished patient  drove  further  westward.  With  eyes 
half  closed,  he  lay  back  upon  the  soft  leather  which 
cushioned  his  brougham,  and  that  great  impressionist 
— man's  imagination — dashed  a  vivid  picture  upon  the 
canvas  of  his  mind. 

There  he  saw  the  interior  of  a  beautiful  chapel. 
Strong  shafts  of  light,  richly  dyed,  threw  their  radi- 
ance upon  the  central  figures  of  a  stately  group.  A 
background  of  oak,  carved  by  the  hand  of  a  master 
craftsman  and  deeply  empurpled  by  age,  formed  a 
regal  setting  for  the  font  of  cloud-white  marble  which 
shone  forth  softly  as  might  the  purest  pearl.  Almost 
lost  to  sight  within  the  lawn-draped  arms  of  episco- 
palian dignity  lay  a  little  child.  Gathered  around 
were  men  and  women  of  high  degree.  There  stood  a 
royal  princess,  and  next  to  her  he  saw  his  wife. 
Here  fear  caught  the  man  about  the  heart,  and  bade 
him  give  pause  and  observe  that,  with  the  ripening  of 
her  motherhood,  his  wife's  loveliness  bespoke  the  pale 

27 


28  THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

beauty  of  the  snowdrop,  rather  than,  as  heretofore, 
the  straightness  and  strength  of  the  lily.  .  .  .  And 
his  it  was  to  tell  her  that  the  little  babe,  his  child  and 
hers,  must,  while  still  a  child,  bear  the  full  weight  of 
a  great  inheritance.  God  grant  that  he  be  not  com- 
pelled to  carry  also  the  burden  of  his  race's  woe ! 

The  weary  man's  eyes  are  now  quite  closed.  Worn 
out  with  the  morning's  demands  upon  his  strength, 
he  sleeps.  And  as  he  sleeps,  the  glitter  and  the  roar 
of  Babylon,  softened  and  beautified  out  of  all  simili- 
tude, penetrate  his  dreams :  he  stands,  a  spectator, 
forming  an.  item  in  a  crowd  of  rank  and  wealth. 
Flowers  riot  in  beauteous  profusion:  tall  palms  and 
graceful  ferns  lend  their  aid  to  a  scene  of  almost  orien- 
tal splendour;  here,  cloudy  lace  and  shimmering  satin, 
and,  upon  every  side,  the  flash  of  gems.  In  the  midst 
he  sees  himself.  There  he  walks,  with  the  light  of 
love  in  his  eyes  and  the  glow  of  possession  upon  his 
brow.  His  bride,  with  sweet  eyes  downcast  and  cheeks 
softly  flushed  with  the  heritage  of  Eve,  moves  by  his 
side.  Happy  faces  flank  them  upon  the  right  and 
left.  And  now,  the  great  organ  speaks :  from  vaulted 
arch  to  beautiful  mosaic,  from  reredos  to  western  door, 
the  vast  cathedral  fills  with  wave  upon  wave  of  grand- 
est harmony.  Now  comes  the  triumphant  march  of 
inspired  chords ;  now  upswell  the  ringing  sounds  of 
revelry,  pealing  forth  upon  their  joyous  way,  as  do 
merry  marriage  bells.  .  .  .  But  hark !  the  organ's 
mighty  heart  is  broken ;  it  throbs  with  piteous  pain. 
Wail  upon  wail  rends  its  stricken  way  out  upon  the 
solemn  stillness,  which  holds  the  dreamer  motionless. 
.  .  .  For  see!  flowers  white  and  beautiful,  but  in 
a  funeral  pile.  Changed  is  the  splendid  pageant:  for 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE  29 

mortal  love  has  failed  to  bar  the  way,  and  Death  is 
King!  Gone  are  the  lightsome  faces:  all  faded  is  the 
gay  attire :  all  lustreless  the  erstwhile  sparkling  gems ! 
The  men  and  the  women  are  there,  but  each  clad  in  a 
panoply  of  deepest  woe.  He  sees  the  bier!  He  sees 
the  darksome  pall  which  drapes  its  form !  and  notes  the 
signs  of  ancient  heraldry.  .  .  .  And  well  he  knows 
for  whom  the  mourners  weep.  Each  voice  is  mute:  no 
whisper  moves  upon  the  air :  and  yet ! — four  words  of 
solemn  import  smite  upon  the  dreamer's  heart: — The 
Duke  is  dead. 


CHAPTER   HI 

MENTAL  ASSASSINATION 

Whosoever  hateth  his  brother  is  a  murderer. 

— John. 

"  LOOK  out !  " 

"  Seems  to  be  in  a  devil  of  a  hurry,  whoever  he  may 
be ; "  and  the  speaker  stepped  hastily  back  among  the 
heather,  as  a  motor  flashed  past  making  light  of  bye- 
laws  and  police  regulations. 

*'  That  is  Lord  George  Maxwell,"  his  companion 
answered.  *'  He  has  no  doubt  been  to  the  little  heir's 
christening.  They  have  evidently  made  a  great  day 
of  it  up  at  the  Castle.  Why  are  you  not  there?  " 

Mr.  Campbell  looked  with  some  interest  after  the 
swiftly  disappearing  motor.  He  knew  the  Duke  of 
Westmoreland  well  and  had,  moreover,  heard  the  vil- 
lage talk,  which  said  that  Lord  George  Maxwell  would 
soon  be  owner  of  the  moors  for  miles  around. 

"  I  don't  care  for  functions,"  he  answered  shortly. 
Then  turning  abruptly  to  his  companion  he  added, 
"  How  is  the  Duke  ?  Is  he  really  so  ill — and  the  child 
too?" 

"  The  Duke  is  dying,"  was  the  terse  reply ;  "  — and 
the  child  also." 

"  But,  Doctor  " — and  the  young  man's  voic«  was 
full  of  protest — "  I  have  heard  that  said  of  the  Duke 
before;  I  heard  it  said  when  I  was  fishing  in  these 
parts  three  years  ago.  But  I  have  met  him  often  since 
then  and  I  see  no  marked  change  in  him." 

so 


THE     SEAMLESS    ROBE  21 

"Oh,  I  know  report  has  killed  him  off  more  than 
once  somewhat  prematurely,  but  this  time  it's  true. 
I  have  known  the  Duke's  family  for  two  generations, 
and  my  only  wonder  is  that  this  man  should  have  lived 
so  long ; "  and  Doctor  Weldon  shouldered  his  rod  and 
turned  to  follow  a  path  which  ran  across  the  moors 
in  the  direction  of  the  village. 

"  Well,  I  knew  him  at  Eton,  and  he  was  strong 
enough  then,"  his  companion  answered  in  an  irritated 
tone.  The  fact  was,  James  Campbell  both  hated  and 
resented  the  thought  of  death,  and  it  seemed  all  wrong 
to  him  that  a  young  man,  standing  upon  the  threshold 
of  what  might  have  developed  into  a  great  career, 
should  thus  drop  out  of  his  place  in  the  world  before 
his  work  in  life  was  well  begun. 

"  He  was  remarkably  strong  as  a  lad,  but  he  was 
doomed  before  his  birth,  you  know,"  and  the  doctor 
sighed. 

"  Horrid  theory,  that  of  heredity,"  Mr.  Campbell 
answered  roughly.  "  Doesn't  seem  to  me  to  give  a 
man  half  a  chance ! " 

"  No,  it  doesn't,"  agreed  Doctor  Weldon,  "  but  un- 
fortunately it  is  more  than  a  theory.  The  Duke  is 
the  only  survivor  of  four  brothers  anyway.  Everyone 
knew  that  the  disease  must  manifest  itself  sooner  or 
later  in  him." 

"Well,  good-bye;  hope  we'll  have  better  sport  to- 
morrow. This  basket  is  twice  too  light  to  please 
me ! "  James  Campbell  turned  rather  abruptly  away 
and  walked  quickly  along  the  road,  the  swing  of  con- 
scious strength  lending  ease  and  grace  to  his  stride. 
He  was  deeply  depressed  by  Dr.  Weldon's  view  of  the 
Duke's  condition,  for  the  wealthy  nobleman  and  the 


32  THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

dour  young  Scot  were  fast  friends   and  had  been  so 
for  years. 

"  So  he  really  is  dying  this  time,  it  seems !  There 
is  a  mistake  somewhere,"  he  muttered.  "  Men  like 
Westmoreland — good  fellow  that  he  is — ought  not  to 
die  at  the  age  of  twenty-five.  I  wish  one  knew  more 
about  it  all.  Somehow,  I  resent  being  so  much  in  the 
dark.  Why  don't  the  ministers  tell  us  more  ?  "  Mr. 
Campbell  gave  the  strap  across  his  shoulders  a  dis- 
satisfied jerk,  as  he  turned  into  the  inn  at  which  he 
spent  a  summer  month  in  every  few  years ;  for  though 
warmly  welcomed  at  the  Castle,  it  suited  his  inde- 
pendent habits  better  to  be  entirely  his  own  master 
at  the  village  inn. 

As  the  Castle  gates  clanged  to  behind  Lord  George 
Maxwell's  motor,  an  old  man,  wearing  the  ducal  livery, 
shook  his  head  despondently  as  he  shot  the  great  bolt 
back  to  its  place. 

"  I'm  afeared  as  how  we'll  be  a-having  him  a-duking 
it  here  afore  long !  "  he  remarked  to  the  young  hunts- 
man who  stood  watching  the  swirling  dust  raised  by 
the  rush  of  steel  along  summer  roads. 

"  What !  His  Lordship !  Do  you  mean  it  ?  Is  his 
Grace  that  bad?  "  And  the  young  fellow's  face  grew 
grave ;  for  the  reigning  Duke  was  dear  to  his  sports- 
man's heart.  True,  it  was  long  since  his  Grace  had 
appeared  in  pink,  but  when  he  had  done  so  man  and 
horse  moved  as  one  and  led  the  way  bravely  across 
broad  meadow  and  rusty  hedgerow. 

"Aye,  he's  a-dying,"  curtly  rejoined  Mr.  Barker; 
'*  he's  been  a-dying  these  many  months,  but  now — 
well,  I'm  afeared  it'll  be  from  wedding  white  to  funeral 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE  33 

black,  afore  the  year's  out.  The  old  Dowager,  she 
buried  all  his  brothers,  afore  they  could  walk  a'most, 
and  the  little  Lord  Gerald,  as  he  then  was,  is  the 
only  one  as  she  managed  to  breech !  " 

"  Seems  sad,  it  do,"  remarked  Williams  dully.  "  I've 
heard  my  father  say  he  was  as  fine  a  little  'un  as  you 
could  wish,  and  that  well  plucked,  you  could  set  him 
on  anything  at  ten-year-old.  But  they  do  say  as  how 
consumption's  sure  to  take  'em  all  off  in  this  family, 
soon  or  late." 

"  Aye,  and  the  little  Marquis,  he's  but  a  weakling. 
Them  London  doctors  think  very  bad  of  him,  I  heard 
'em  say  in  the  hall  last  night." 

With  these  gloomy  prognostications  the  two  men 
parted ;  Mr.  Barker  to  tell  his  "  old  missus  "  that  he 
thought  the  time  had  come  for  a  pension,  as  he'd  no 
fancy  for  Lord  George  as  his  master;  while  Williams 
spent  the  next  hour  talking  of  the  beginning  of  his 
own  life  and  the  end  of  his  master's,  the  second  house- 
maid meanwhile  bearing  him  willing  company. 


Lord  George  Maxwell  sat  perfectly  still  as  his  car 
carried  him  homeward,  racing  its  way  across  the  coun- 
try. He  had  just  seen  that  which  made  him  thought- 
ful, and  he  had  that  awaiting  him  at  his  journey's 
end  which  made  him  more  thoughtful  still. 

"  Curse  it !  "  he  breathed  between  tightly  closed  lips, 
"  I  almost  wish  the  positions  were  reversed.  I  shall 
have  my  work  cut  out  to  get  through  with  a  clean 
face ; " — his  hands  he  knew  to1  be  hopelessly  soiled. 
"  Damn  those  sharks !  It's  all  their  fault  for  netting 
me  in  my  teens." 


84  THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

Some  years  before  the  day  of  which  I  now  write, 
Lord  George  Maxwell  had  commenced  his  Oxford  career 
already  encumbered  with  debt.  The  snowball  of  lia- 
bilities had  started  to  roll  even  before  he  had  entered 
the  sixth  at  Eaton,  and  had  continued  upon  its  un- 
savoury way,  gathering  solidity  and  momentum  as  the 
years  passed  on.  At  first  the  young  nobleman,  whose 
diplomatic  duties  had  kept  him  much  out  of  England, 
had  wondered  at  the  alacrity  with  which  the  money 
lenders  had  met  his  wishes,  by  making  substantial  ad- 
vances in  exchange  for  what  he  knew  to  be  but  poor 
security.  Later,  he  understood.  Even  now,  he  hated 
to  think  of  that  day.  Half  unconsciously,  he  dated 
his  further  moral  deterioration  from  that  memorable 
Twelfth.  The  young  Duke  of  Westmoreland  had  been 
paying  one  of  his  rare  visits  to  England,  and  at  the 
house  of  a  mutual  friend,  uncle  and  nephew  had  met 
for  the  first  time  since  the  latter's  boyhood.  It  was 
upon  this  occasion  that  Lord  George  had  suddenly 
realised  that  his  creditors  must  have  been  trading  for 
years  upon  information,  new  to  him  but  easily  obtain- 
able now  by  one  glance  at  the  Duke's  white  face  and 
shrunken  form.  Swayed  by  a  strong  revulsion  of 
feeling,  the  elder  man  had  sworn  to  wean  himself  from 
turf  and  table,  but  in  vain.  With  him  gambling  had 
become  a  fixed  habit,  and  all  other  amusements  were 
dreary  in  comparison ;  moreover  it  became  increasingly 
easy,  he  found,  to  raise  money,  until  quite  unexpectedly 
the  delicate  young  Duke  married.  Immediately  Lord 
George  Maxwell's  chief  creditors  became  importunate 
in  their  demands  for  payment,  where,  before,  they  had 
been  pressing  in  their  offers  of  assistance. 

The  car  had  barely  drawn  up  before  its  occupant 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE  35 

leaped  out  and  entered  his  house,  the  rough  stone  por- 
tico of  which  told  the  stranger  here  was  one  of  Eng- 
land's ancient  homesteads. 

"  Has  Mr.  Lethbridge  arrived?  "  he  asked  curtly. 

"  Yes,  my  Lord,  he  is  on  the  lawn ;  "  and  the  foot- 
man opened  the  garden  door  and  held  it  back. 

But  Lord  George  Maxwell  was  in  a  state  of  great 
nervous  excitement  and  was  in  no  hurry  to  meet  his 
guest.  He  was  therefore  relieved  to  hear  the  dressing- 
gong  sound  at  that  moment,  and  walked  straight  up 
to  his  room.  He  met  Mr.  Lethbridge  half  an  hour 
later  in  the  hall,  and  they  maintained  a  superficial  con- 
versation during  dinner.  The  meal  over,  Lord  George 
immediately  led  the  way  into  the  library.  Both  men 
were  now  smoking  and,  for  a  time,  neither  made  any 
attempt  to  speak.  Suddenly,  however,  Mr.  Lethbridge 
rose  from  his  chair  and,  opening  the  door  sharply, 
looked  out  into  the  hall;  closing  it  he  returned  to  his 
seat. 

"  No  one  there  now,  at  any  rate,"  he  remarked, 
"  but  I  like  to  be  sure  before  discussing  these  personal 
matters." 

His  host  did  not  reply  and  after  awhile  Mr.  Leth- 
bridge continued,  "  You  are  sure  it  really  is  all  over 
this  time?  "  and  he  laughed  softly;  "  fact  is,"  he  added, 
"  his  Grace  has  been  altogether  too  long  about  making 
his  exit  to  suit  my  book." 

Lord  George  winced.  What  a  brute  this  refined- 
looking,  soft-mannered  man  was  in  reality,  and  how 
he  hated  him!  With  a  sort  of  wonder,  he  reflected 
upon  the  fast  friendship  which  had  once  existed  between 
them. 

"  I  am  sure,"  he  answered  dryly. 


36  THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

"  He  was  pretty  bad  some  time  ago,"  Mr.  Leth- 
bridge  remarked,  "  but  he  has  lived  long  enough  to 
marry  and  to  perpetuate  the  race,  you  see." 

"  To  marry,  but  not  to  perpetuate  the  race ;  the 
child's  life  isn't  worth  a  cent,  and  the  Dukedom  is  as 
good  as  mine.  You  may  safely  back  that  bill,  it's  only 
a  matter  of  a  few  weeks  now  1 "  Lord  George  spoke 
sharply,  for  he  hated  the  whole  transaction  and  wished 
to  be  done  with  it  quickly. 

"  I  believe  it  is,  and  so  I  will  help  you  round  this 
nasty  corner:  it's  about  touch  and  go  with  you,  eh! 
old  chap?  And  when  you  are  reigning  at  Knares- 
dale,  why,  I  will  not  forget  to  look  you  up !  "  and  again 
Mr.  Lethbridge  laughed  gently,  as  he  put  his  name 
to  the  bill  in  frpnt  of  him,  but  still  rested  his  strong 
slender  fingers  upon  it. 

"  Now,"  he  continued,  "  please  sign  this!  " 

"  I'm  damned  if  I  do ! "  and  Lord  George  seized  the 
paper  which  the  other  man  had  placed  before  him, 
and  tore  it  across  and  across. 

Once  more  Mr.  Lethbridge  laughed  in  his  exasperat- 
ing manner.  Nothing  ever  angered  him :  he  was  known 
to  have  the  coolest  head  and  the  steadiest  hand  among 
his  set. 

"  My  dear  chap,  don't  make  a  scene ;  it's  too  hot." 

"  I'll  never  sign  that ! "  and  Lord  George  Maxwell 
struck  his  chair  with  the  flat  of  his  hand.  "  The  con- 
dition is  unheard  of!  There  are  some  things  that  a 
gentleman  may  not  do ! " 

"  There  are  many  things  that  a  gentleman  may  not 
do  !  but — I  have  seen  them  done !  " 

Mr.  Lethbridge  spoke  quietly  as  ever,  but  his  voice 


THE     SEAMLESS    ROBE  37 

held  a  note  of  inflexibility,  which  the  other  had  heard 
before  and  had  reason  to  recognise  as  final. 

Lord  George  rose  and  striding  to  the  French  win- 
dow flung  it  roughly  open.  A  look,  not  good  to  see, 
settled  in  his  eyes  and,  when  five  minutes  later  he 
turned  and  walked  slowly  up  to  his  companion,  his 
face  was  white  enough  to  startle  even  Frank  Leth- 
bridge.  For  a  time  the  man  was  silent,  though  twice 
he  essayed  to  speak ;  then  passionate  words  of  miserable 
self-surrender  rushed  from  between  his  teeth. 

"  Damn  you,  Lethbridge !  I  would  to  God  I  had 
never  seen  your  face.  Give  me  the  cursed  thing  and 
let  me  sell  my  soul  as  soon  as  may  be ! " 

Mr.  Lethbridge  selected  a  sheet  of  Lord  George's 
crested  notepaper  from  a  basket  upon  the  writing- 
table,  and  carefully,  with  deliberate  slowness,  he  wrote 
a  few  lines  upon  it,  but,  when  a  minute  later  two 
insignificant-looking  pieces  of  paper  changed  hands, 
his  usually  expressionless  face  changed  a  little,  for  he 
had  managed  the  business  beautifully.  It  had  required 
much  patience,  more  judgment,  but  the  work  was  well 
done ;  more  thoroughly  indeed  than  the  poor  fool  before 
him  yet  realised.  Time  enough  for  him,  Frank  Leth- 
bridge, to  show  his  hand  ungloved,  when  he  fulfilled 
his  promise  and  looked  his  lordship  up  at  Knaresdale — 
and  not  long  to  wait  now,  he  knew,  for  he  too  had  seen 
the  Duke  of  late  and  had  looked  at  him  with  the 
critical  eye  of  "  waiting  man." 

"Well,  the  sooner  the  better,"  and  Mr.  Lethbridge 
held  out  his  hand  to  his  host  as  he  bade  him  good- 
night. He  smiled  again  at  his  companion's  childish 
discourtesy  in  ignoring  the  conventional  salute. 


38  THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

Left  alone,  Lord  George  remained  for  hours  in  the 
library,  and  it  was  not  until  early  morning  that  he 
rose  from  his  chair  and  sought  his  bedroom. 

What  had  he  done?  Signed  away  the  honour  of  a 
woman  who  had  once  loved  and  trusted  him?  Well! 
Such  things  had  been  done  before  and  would  be  done 
again.  Poverty  was  apt  to  drive  both  men  and  women 
to  hell! 

So  let  both  men  and  their  vile  schemes  pass  from 
our  minds,  even  as  they  leave  the  pages  of  this  book. 
Merely  introduced  to  uncover  a  danger  that  has  been 
too  long  ignored,  they  have  done  their  work ;  and  those 
who  follow  this  history  will  note  that  in  the  great 
battle  between  good  and  evil,  the  powers  of  darkness 
cannot  finally  prevail  against  the  children  of  the  Light. 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  MESMERISM  OF  FEAR;  OR,  "THROUGH  THE 
VALLEY  OF  THE  SHADOW" 

The  Great  and  angry  deep: — 

Chasms  black  and  awful! 

Moving  mountains,  strong,  relentless,  terrible, 

Cruel-capped  with  deathly  white ! 

A  rushing  mighty  wind — 

The  roar  of  hell  gone  mad; 

The  gleeful  shriek  of  fiends  let  loose! 

Death-dealing  swords  of  flame,  fiercely 

Darting  through  the  night: 

The  guns  of  Satan  booming  loud  and  long; 

And  overhead  a  canopy  of  deepest  gloom. 

From  high  heaven  comes  a  voice  "  Peace  be  still ! " 

Softly,  lovingly  breathes  the  voice, 

Gently  gleams  a  golden  light, 

And  Satan's  host  hath  fled. 

The  great  deep  smiles  like  a  child  at  rest; 

The  heavens  reflect  the  glory  of  God, 

And  kiss  the  wavelets  with  the  light  of  Love; 

And  there  is  a  great  calm. 

The  Spirit  of  God,  mighty,  serene,  most  wonderful, 

Moves  upon  the  face  of  the  waters; 

And  Love  Omnipotent  reigneth. 

AT  the  same  hour  as  that  at  which  Lord  George  Max- 
well and  Mr.  Lethbridge  parted  for  the  night,  the  Duke 
of  Westmoreland  rose  from  the  long  couch,  upon  which 
he  rested  often  now,  and  walked  down  the  corridor  by 
his  wife's  side.  Before  he  opened  the  further  door,  he 
turned  and  drew  her  within  his  arm. 

39 


40  THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

"  Beloved,"  he  said,  "  the  day  has  been  long  for 
us  both,  but  I  have  still  much  to  do,  so  I  will  not  dis- 
turb your  rest,  but  will  go  to  my  own  room  later ; " 
and  he  raised  her  face  to  his  and  gently  kissed  it. 

"Dearest,  must  you  write  again  to-night?"  she 
asked;  "what  is  it  that  keeps  you  so  busy?  " 

For  answer  he  passed  his  lips  across  her  cheek  and 
brow,  till  she,  framing  his  face  within  soft  palms,  held 
him  still  and  lightly  pressed  her  kisses  upon  his  lips. 

"  My  love,"  the  Duke  spoke  softly,  "  I  have  many 
things  to  put  in  order,  and — time  is  passing." 

Not  hearing  the  grave  warning  which  he  thus  tried 
to  give,  lightly  and  lovingly  she  laughed  her  sweet 
reply ;  "  Then,  husband  and  lover,  good-night."  As 
she  withdrew  her  form  from  his  lingering  embrace,  a 
great  tenderness  expressed  itself  in  his  low  whisper 
of  love  which  breathed  its  gentle  way  among  the  gold 
of  her  hair  and  softly  touched  the  bloom  of  her  cheek, 
till  her  own  love  bade  it  pause  and  rest  silently  within 
the  sanctuary  of  a  pure  wife's  heart. 

At  the  head  of  the  marble  stairs,  the  Duchess  turned 
and  rounding  each  delicate  finger  tip,  the  one  upon  the 
other,  she  formed  a  rosy  chalice  and  prisoned  therein 
a  kiss.  Bending  a  glance  from  love-lit  eyes  upon  the 
man  who  watched  her  from  below,  she  threw  her  kiss 
upon  the  air,  thus  bidding  him  once  more  her  sweet 
good-night. 

He  caught  her  kiss  upon  bravely  smiling  lips,  but 
a  sudden  dew  shone  in  his  eyes  as  he  slowly  reached 
the  topmost  stair  and  wound  his  arms  about  her. 

And  even  as  heart  beat  upon  heart,  Death  warned 
him  of  its  near  approach  and  shortened  the  breath 
with  which  he  would  have  bade  his  wife  farewell. 


41 

The  Duke  rose  restlessly  from  his  writing-table  and 
walked  out  through  the  open  door  on  to  the  battle- 
ments. Built  many  centuries  ago,  the  Castle  stood  at 
the  head  of  a  wild  glen,  overlooking  a  little  hamlet 
which  nestled  in  the  valley  below.  From  this  vantage 
point,  many  of  the  Duke's  broad  lands  were  visible, 
and  to-night  he  realised  more  clearly  than  ever  before 
the  greatness  of  his  possessions.  Purple  moors 
stretched  around  him  upon  every  side.  Bordered  on 
the  westward  by  the  sea,  there  to  the  eastward  by  the 
heights  of  Skaw,  and  before  him,  as  far  as  the  eye 
could  reach,  by  the  winding  silver  ribbon  within  whose 
shining  folds  the  salmon  hid :  it  was  a  goodly  heritage. 

At  the  moment  the  night  was  made  beautiful  by 
reason  of  the  moon's  clear  light,  but  clouds  were  mov- 
ing up  and  betokened  the  approach  of  a  time  of  tumult 
among  the  elements. 

For  some  minutes  the  sick  man  stood  still  with  his 
hands  loosely  clasped  behind  his  back:  presently,  the 
nervous  fingers  tightened  their  hold  upon  each  other, 
and  he  raised  his  white  face,  while  he  asked  unanswer- 
able questions  of  the  quiet  night. 

"  Rank,  and  lands,  and  wealth,"  he  muttered,  "  I 
have  always  had,  but  the  love  is  new  and  sweet. 
I  would  to  God  that  I  could  keep  it.  Why  may  I 
not?  Why  have  I  been  crowned  with  the  joy  of  love, 
only  to  be  dethroned  by  the  hand  of  Death?  Of  what 
use  is  all  this  " — and  he  swept  his  arm  out  and  around 
with  a  passionate  gesture — "  of  what  use  to  a  dead 
man?" 

And  now  the  Duke  paced  slowly  up  and  down  upon 
the  battlements.  "  How  long  and  how  useless  has  been 
my  search  for  health !  "  he  cried  aloud.  "  I  have  sought 


42  THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

it  upon  the  Mediterranean  shore ;  I  have  pined  for  it 
all  along  the  Riviera ;  I  have  hoped  and  prayed  for  it 
among  the  suns  and  snows  of  Davos.  I  have  sailed 
weary  miles  across  the  ocean,  even  to  the  Antipodes ;  I 
have  endured  unnatural  temperatures  between  four 
walls ;  I  have  encamped  upon  the  African  veld ;  always 
seeking,  but  never  finding  health.  Like  a  foolish  trav- 
eller, I  have  chased  a  will-o'-the-wisp  which,  bright  and 
beautiful,  seemed  constantly  to  be  almost  within  my 
grasp,  but  which  always  mocked  me  in  the  end  as  it 
faded  from  my  sight." 

The  fevered  man  dropped  his  head  upon  his  breast 
and  let  both  arms  hang  inert  by  his  side.  Then,  like  a 
hunted  creature,  he  turned  suddenly  and,  entering  the 
Castle,  sped  his  steps  from  room  to  room,  out  into  the 
gallery,  down  the  central  stairs,  onward  through  the 
corridor  and  drawing-rooms,  across  the  great  hall,  only 
pausing  when  he  reached  the  doors  which  gave  entrance 
to  the  state-rooms.  These  he  entered  and  paced  their 
length  again  and  again.  And  now  hot  words  rush 
from  between  the  fevered  lips,  impelled  by  the  volcanic 
thought  which  gives  them  birth.  Why  had  he  fled 
thus  madly  into  these  great  rooms?  How  dreary  they 
seem  in  their  set  grandeur  and  their  wrappings  of 
chintz:  how  dead  and  white  they  look  bathed  in  the 
moon's  cold  light !  And  what  is  this  he  sees  ?  A  black 
frock  coat;  a  keen  and  clever  face!  And  that  other 
man,  young,  drawn  up  to  his  full  height,  receiving 
with  befitting  calm  his  death  warrant!  Death,  and 
after?  Some  had  preached  to  him  of  purgatory;  some 
had  coldly  said,  "  annihilation  " ;  some — most  sure  that 
they  themselves  were  saved — had  thundered  of  "  hell- 
fire  " ;  others  had  lulled  his  sense  to  sleep  by  gentle 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE  43 

murmurs  of  "  Elysian  rest  " ;  and  others, — oh,  their 
name  was  legion !  All  held  the  other  wrong,  themselves 
alone  were  right !  Not  one  could  give  a  reason  for  the 
faith  within  him!  Not  one  could  prove  the  substance 
of  his  words.  Women  sometimes  talked  of  "  love  be- 
yond the  grave,"  but  they  were  women  only,  sweet  and 
good,  but  most  unreasonable. 

Thus,  doubt  and  fear,  twin  brethren  of  the  flesh, 
assail  him,  and  for  a  while  they  hold  him  mute:  then 
a  sound  presses  its  way  between  the  man's  white  lips. 
Falling  harshly  upon  the  still  night  air,  it  wails  its 
length  onwards  through  lofty  hall  and  empty  corridor, 
dying  at  last  because  unfit  to  live — the  cry  of  a  broken 
heart,  the  child  of  doubt  and  fear. 

That  midsummer  night  was  long  remembered  in  the 
vale  of  the  Hesk,  for  such  destruction  had  never  be- 
fore been  seen  there  in  the  memory  of  any  man  then 
alive. 

The  storm  disturbed  the  Duchess:  first  mingling 
with  her  dreams  and  causing  her  to  turn  and  turn 
again  among  the  soft  down  and  fine  cambric  upon  which 
she  lay,  it  finally  awakened  her  to  a  troubled  con- 
sciousness, beclouded  with  the  terror  of  her  recent 
dream. 

Swirling  sheets  of  water  flung  themselves  in  impo- 
tent fury  against  the  strong  glaze  of  the  window  pane 
which  denied  them  entrance.  The  elements,  let  loose, 
made  mad  music  as  they  met  and  met  again,  holding 
wild  revelry  all  through  the  blackness  of  the  night. 
To  the  westward  the  sea  rose  up  full-crested  in  its 
wrath  and,  marshalling  all  its  forces,  formed  line  upon 
line  of  cruel  black  and  white,  between  whose  awful 


44 

heights  there  lay  dark  depths  of  hellish  treachery ; 
whilst  the  wind,  winding  her  mighty  arms  about  the 
giant  elm,  uplifted  it  and,  tearing  it  from  its  home  of 
a  hundred  years,  shrieked  gleefully  as  she  threw  it  all 
its  length  upon  the  sodden  earth.  Then,  dancing  on 
with  frantic  haste,  she  parted  the  mother  and  the  child 
and  laughed  to  see  the  birch  all  bare  and  white,  where 
bough  was  rent  from  parent  stem.  She  laughed  again, 
but  this  time  with  a  still  and  noiseless  mirth,  as,  hold- 
ing in  her  breath,  she  made  ready  to  surpass  herself 
in  her  work  of  devilish  despoliation.  The  smiling 
moon  now  fled  aghast,  hiding  herself  behind  the  canopy 
of  jet-dyed  clouds  which  curtained  all  the  heavens. 
And  the  angry  storm  clapped  its  hands  and  boomed 
with  thunderous  voice,  as  it  hurled  white  crystals  upon 
the  land  and  crushed  the  life  from  tender  summer  flow- 
ers. The  lightning  flashed  its  vivid  way,  now  here, 
now  there,  until  it  met  and  mastered  the  chapel  spire; 
then,  pleased  with  the  ruin  it  had  wrought,  it  lit  up 
earth  and  sky  to  show  its  handiwork  to  men. 

At  an  early  hour  the  next  morning  every  man, 
woman  and  child  upon  the  estate  knew  that  the  Duke 
of  Westmoreland  was  dying. 

The  storm  still  raged,  but  busy  workmen  were  al- 
ready employed  in  repairing  the  broken  telegraph  wires. 
Meanwhile,  the  ill  news  sped  rapidly  from  mouth  to 
mouth,  as  such  news  does,  losing  nothing  upon  its 
journey,  and  before  noon  the  Duke  was  reported  dead. 

It  was  almost  night;  the  hours  had  come  and  gone, 
and  still  the  Duke  lived.  Sir  James  Norton  had  ar- 
rived from  London,  and  the  Duchess  had  left  him  in 
consultation  with  Dr.  Weldon.  Now,  as  the  two  men 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE  45 

entered  the  room,  she  rose  from  her  chair  and  remained 
standing  while  they  approached  her.  Immediately  she 
read  that  in  their  grave  faces  which  rendered  question 
upon  her  part  unnecessary. 

"  Your  Grace,"  Sir  James  Norton's  voice  was  quiet 
and  dragged  a  little,  but  it  nevertheless  sounded  cruelly 
distinct,  "  I  thought  it  right  to  warn  the  Duke  some 
days  ago  that  he  must  avoid  all  excitement,  for  I  knew 
that  his  reserve  of  strength  was  not  sufficient  to  enable 
him  to  rally  from " 

"  Stop ! "  and  the  Duchess  raised  her  hand  with  a 
gesture  more  peremptory  than  she  dreamed  of.  "  I 
understand,"  she  continued  gently,  "  you  can  give 
me  no  hope." 

With  a  bluntness  born  partly  of  the  pain  that  he 
felt  and  partly  of  his  country  life,  Dr.  Weldon  joined 
his  voice  to  that  of  his  London  confrere. 

"  There  is  no  hope,"  he  said ;  and  his  tone  was 
roughened  by  the  remembrance  of  that  which  he  had 
left  upstairs. 

The  stricken  lady  never  moved,  but  stood  before 
them  straight  and  tall.  So  still  she  stood  that  both 
men  marvelled.  Had  she  heard  aright?  Had  she 
really  understood? 

But  the  whiteness  of  her  face  and  the  slight  tremor 
of  her  under  lip  told  something  of  her  silent  woe.  At 
last  she  spoke. 

"  I  thank  you  both,  I  shall  not  leave  the  Duke 
again." 

And  she  bent  her  head  with  gentle  courtesy  and 
even  smiled  a  little,  as  she  passed  both  men  at  the 
open  door. 

The  minutes  only  had  come  and  gone,  when  a  swift- 


46  THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

winged  message  left  the  Duke's  private  office  and  within 
the  hour  arrived  at  its  destination — a  small  London 
house. 

Leaving  the  office,  the  Duchess  passed  swiftly  up- 
stairs. Reaching  her  husband's  room,  she  stood  for  a 
moment  framed  within  the  arched  doorway. 

A  dark  shade  softened  the  glare  of  the  lamp.  It 
kept  the  dying  man  in  shadow  but  allowed  a  beam  of 
light  to  rest  athwart  the  entrance  to  the  room.  As 
the  watching  lady  stood  upon  the  threshold,  her  white 
gown  shimmered  softly  and  the  bright  gold  of  her 
hair  gleamed  amid  the  semi-darkness  of  the  lofty  room. 
Her  face  was  grave  and  very  still,  but  in  her  eyes 
there  shone  the  light  of  hope. 

The  nurse  advanced  from  her  post  beside  the  sick 
man's  bed.  With  a  silent  gesture  the  Duchess  waved 
her  aside  and,  as  the  woman  passed  her,  issued  a  quiet 
command,  "  Leave  me,  I  will  watch  alone." 

Advancing,  she  knelt  beside  the  bed  and,  folding  her 
husband's  hand  within  her  own,  spoke  in  a  voice  which, 
though  low,  was  very  clear. 

"  Can  you  hear  me,  Gerald?  I  have  telegraphed 
to  Mr.  Meade." 

The  sick  man  opened  his  eyes  and  smiled  gently. 

"  My  white  lily,"  he  whispered,  "  nothing  can  help 
me  now." 

"  Gerald,  these  people  do  get  wonderful  answers  to 
their  prayers  after  others  have  failed,  I  know;  try  to 
hope  that  you  will  recover." 

The  sick  man  did  not  answer,  except  to  hold,  with 
what  firmness  he  might,  his  wife's  cool  hand.  But 
his  thought  rose  and  fell,  strangely  disturbed  by  this 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE  47 

suggestion  of  life,  when  even  now  he  seemed  to  hear 
the  measured  footfall  of  his  inexorable  enemy,  Death. 

Presently  ...  all  thought  stood  still,  held  and 
bound  by  the  power  of  a  woman's  voice. 

Clearly  he  heard  the  words  she  uttered,  and  eagerly 
he  drank  their  meaning  in,  for  they  were  words  of  Love 
and  Life — words  of  longing  and  of  trustful,  hopeful 
prayer. 

It  was  the  hour  of  dawn.  The  great  storm,  its  wild 
passion  spent,  sank  wearily  to  rest.  Westward,  all 
was  calm  and  clear,  for  the  raging  billows  had  rolled 
away,  and  the  mighty  deep  lay  still,  save  where  it 
caressed  the  shore  with  a  murmurous  song  of  pure 
delight.  The  heavens,  now  radiant  with  a  golden 
gleam,  showered  their  wealth  of  summer  glory  far 
and  wide.  Sweet  songs  of  love  and  life  thrilled  out 
upon  the  air,  as  the  lark  spread  strong  wing  and 
mounted  higher,  ever  higher,  in  its  flight  from  earth 
to  sky.  And  now,  with  imperial  might,  the  sun  held 
sway  over  all  the  land,  waking  to  newness  of  joy  the 
rain-soaked  earth  and  warming  to  vigorous  action  the 
myriad  heart-beats  of  the  moorland  life. 

Within  the  Castle  scarcely  a  sound  was  heard.  With 
noiseless  tread  the  nurse  approached  the  doctor,  as 
he  was  about  to  enter  the  sick  man's  room. 

"  His  Grace,"  she  whispered,  "  has  slept  all  night,  I 
should  have  called  you  otherwise." 

For  a  moment  the  doctor  paused  in  mute  surprise; 
then  he  resumed  his  way.  Upon  the  threshold  of  the 
chamber  he  found  himself  arrested  by  something  which 
he  could  neither  define  nor  understand.  The  blackness 


48  THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

of  his  coat  failed  to  capture  one  ray  of  light;  con- 
spicuous, by  force  of  contrast,  was  the  keen  face  and 
strong  white  hand  which  held  back  the  heavy  curtain. 

The  Duke  was  sleeping  restfully  as  does  a  happy 
child.  Looking  more  closely  at  him,  Sir  James  Norton 
saw  that  all  nervous  tension  had  relaxed.  The  sick 
man  was  evidently  destined  to  pass  peacefully  away, 
and  he  thanked  God  that  it  was  so,  for  he  had  not 
expected  the  end  to  be  so  calm.  And  the  Duchess 
looked  strangely  happy !  Though  awake,  she  appeared 
to  rest  most  perfectly  in  the  low  chair  placed  beside 
the  bed. 

Just  then  she  turned  and  saw  the  doctor  standing 
by  the  door ;  smilingly  she  placed  her  ringers  upon  her 
lips. 

The  man  stood  dazed;  then,  impelled  by  that  which 
he  felt  but  still  could  not  define,  he  turned  and  left 
the  room. 

What !  ye  wondering  world.  .  .  .  Has  a  thought 
so  much  of  power?  Does  Life,  in  very  truth,  com- 
mand? Must  Death  indeed  obey? 

The  Duchess  rose  and  drew  the  curtains  back,  then 
opened  wide  the  lattice  panes.  Through  the  high 
casement  the  sun  gleamed  in  and  threw  his  warm 
smile  upon  the  bed,  filling  the  room  with  glowing  light. 

And  hark!  Whence  comes  this  song  of  joyous  tri- 
umph, rising,  swelling,  soaring  upon  the  morning  air? 
Or  is  it  a  still,  small  voice,  whispering  within  a  woman's 
heart  the  answer  to  that  woman's  prayer? 

"  I  am  the  way,  the  truth  and  the  life ; "  "  Follow 
me."  "  I  am  come  that  they  might  have  life,  and  that 
they  might  have  it  more  abundantly." 


CHAPTER    V 

THE    UNBURIED    DEAD;    OR,    "THE    FRUIT    OF    HIS 
BODY  FOR  THE  SIN  OF  HIS  SOUL" 

Truth  is  as  impossible  to  be  soiled  by  any  outward  touch 
as  the  sunbeam. 

— Milton. 

DTJBING  the  following  winter  there  was  a  period  of 
intense  cold,  which  will  be  long  remembered  by  those 
whose  hand  held  no  weapon  wherewith  to  fight  the 
grim  enemy.  For  the  devil,  Want,  works  not  alone 
but  gathers  round  him,  as  he  penetrates  each  noisome 
den,  a  triad  of  arch-fiends,  even  that  foul  triplet,  Sin, 
Disease  and  Death— all  children  of  the  common  parent 
Fear;  all  conceived  in  the  womb  of  that  great  illusion 
whom  mortal  men  call  Evil;  all  brought  forth  by  the 
power  of — a  lie! 

Within  a  short  distance  of  one  of  England's  oldest 
towns,  there  stands  a  grey  stone  building,  well  known 
for  miles  around  as  the  dwelling  of  the  St.  Anselm 
Fathers. 

On  the  eve  of  the  New  Year,  in  one  of  the  smaller 
rooms,  a  man  sat  silently  before  his  desk.  The  hour 
grew  late  but  still  he  did  not  move.  Before  him  lay 
a  sheet  of  notepaper,  its  surface  quite  unmarred  by 
ink.  He  appeared  to  be  thinking  deeply,  and  upon 
the  strong  face  signs  of  a  great  struggle  were  visible. 
His  cassock  was  wrapped  around  him,  and  twice  he 
shivered  slightly  and  drew  it  closer  to  his  form,  for 

49 


the  night  was  one  of  bitter  frost  and  the  grate  was 
fireless.  The  whole  room  looked  bare  and  cold,  being 
severely  furnished  only  with  some  few  necessaries.  A 
skull  cap  covered  the  man's  head,  completely  hiding  the 
slight  growth  of  hair  which  was  all  that  the  rules  of 
his  order  permitted. 

Presently  he  rose  and,  going  to  an  oaken  chest,  un- 
locked it.  From  within  the  topmost  drawer  he  drew 
forth  a  letter  and  for  a  long  time  rested  his  eyes  upon 
the  few  lines  which  it  contained,  reading  them  again 
and  .again.  Replacing  the  letter  and  locking  the 
chest,  he  crossed  the  room  and  threw  himself  upon  his 
knees  beside  the  bed.  Bowing  his  head  upon  his  folded 
arms,  he  remained  thus  through  many  hours  of  the 
night.  As  morning  dawned  he  raised  his  head  and 
rose  to  the  consciousness  of  another  day. 

His  decision  was  made  for  weal  or  for  woe.  And 
now  his  movements  betokened  a  feverish  haste.  Rap- 
idly he  wrote  three  lines  upon  the  paper,  placed  many 
hours  before  upon  his  desk.  Not  pausing  to  read 
them  over,  he  secured  the  curt  message  with  a  seal 
which  hung  beneath  his  vest.  Then,  reaching  a  thick 
cloak  from  a  press  beside  the  bed,  he  drew  it  on  and, 
quickly  leaving  the  room,  passed  out  into  the  wintry 
air.  Looking  neither  to  the  right  nor  left,  he  made 
his  way  with  speedy  steps  into  the  centre  of  the  town. 

Upon  the  northern  side  of  a  mass  of  grey  buildings 
he  stopped  and  for  one  half  moment  his  grip  tightened 
upon  the  missive  which  he  held  within  the  letter  box ; 
then  suddenly  his  fingers  opened  and  a  look  of  relief 
spread  over  his  face,  as  he  heard  the  rustle  of  paper 
touching  paper  and  knew  that  his  decision  was  now 
irrevocable. 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE  51 

With  a  half-stifled  sigh  he  turned  upon  his  homeward 
way,  walking  this  time  with  eyes  downcast  and  scarce 
hastening  his  footsteps  at  all:  with  his  right  hand  he 
folded  his  cloak  firmly  across  his  breast,  while  the  fin- 
gers of  his  left  hand  dug  deep  upon  the  palm. 

Robert  Saul  was  a  man  of  quite  unusual  height  and 
more  spare  in  form  than  when  he  had  entered,  almost 
a  year  ago,  upon  his  term  of  probation  at  St.  Anslem's 
College,  for  it  was  his  temperament  to  out-Herod 
Herod,  and  the  oft  recurring  fast  days  were  apt  to 
find  him  already  fasting.  Of  a  nature  strong  and 
passionate,  he  subdued  all  personal  desire  by  the  exer- 
cise of  an  iron  will.  Now  he  felt  himself  a  derelict 
as  he  realised  that,  for  the  first  time  in  his  thinking 
life,  his  nature  would  not  answer  to  the  helm. 

As  he  walked  homeward  he  glanced  swiftly  around. 
What  a  world  of  black  and  white  was  this !  Spread 
like  a  mantle  over  all  the  earth  as  far  as  eye  could 
reach  was  the  untrodden  snow,  its  crystal  surface  shin- 
ing with  a  beauty  only  half  its  own,  as  it  caught  and 
threw  back  again  the  luminous  glory  of  the  moon's 
pale  light.  Splashed  upon  its  purity  were  blots  of 
inky  blackness — dark  shadows  thrown  from  each  tall 
and  narrow  house.  Within  those  doors  there  were,  he 
knew,  contrasts  quite  as  strong  but  holding  a  mean- 
ing full  of  pain.  Scarcely  twelve  hours  before,  he  had 
seen  that  which  had  filled  his  heart  with  helpless  rage — 
a  man,  sin-stained  and  well-nigh  mad  with  drink,  and 
upon  the  wretched  bed,  a  dying  maid,  who  held  across 
her  breast  a  new-born  babe. 

Something  of  the  light  and  shade  of  life  the  priest 
had  realised  then,  but  it  was  not  until  years  later  that, 
looking  back  upon  that  day,  with  head  raised  high 


52  THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

above  the  mist  and  thought  purified  by  a  selfless  love 
for  all  humanity,  he  saw  things  as  they  really  were. 
Then  he  beheld  the  sin  in  all  its  utter  blackness,  but 
saw  also,  there  upon  that  sin-laden  bed,  a  pure  young 
life — white  as  the  Mind  from  whence  it  came  and  all- 
unspotted  by  the  mortal  thought  around. 

But  to-night  all  was  dark  to  Robert  Saul;  for  he 
was  a  man  storm-tossed  upon  the  dark  and  troubled 
sea  of  earthly  desire.  Suddenly  he  hastened  his  steps, 
and  reaching  the  side  door  by  which  he  had  left  the 
college,  he  entered  a  long  and  narrow  passage  leading 
to  the  little  room  which  had  so  recently  been  the  scene 
of  his  mighty  struggle  between  duty  and  desire.  In- 
voluntarily he  glanced  at  the  chair  before  his  desk; 
then  turned  his  eye  to  the  bed  upon  which  the  indent 
of  his  pressing  arms  still  was  visible.  There  he  had 
knelt  and  prayed  at  the  parting  of  the  ways  for  the 
light  which  had  not  come — which  could  not  come  to  a 
mind  already  half  made  up — prayed  to  be  released 
from  the  thraldom  of  a  woman's  smile  which,  by  rea- 
son of  its  very  purity,  drew  him  to  her  with  resistless 
force. 

Now  he  summoned  a  lay  brother  and  sent  him  to 
ask  for  any  early  interview  with  the  Principal  of  the 
College.  Much  sooner  than  he  had  anticipated  the 
summons  came,  and  with  mixed  feelings  Robert  Saul 
hastened  to  answer  it.  He  found  the  Father  seated 
before  his  writing  table,  a  half-written  sermon  upon 
the  open  desk  before  him. 

"  Something  has  come  between  you  and  your  vow." 

The  Father  did  not  ask  a  question,  but  stated,  as  a 
fact,  that  of  which  he  could  have  had  no  certain  knowl- 
edge. 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE  53 

Slightly  disconcerted,  Robert  Saul  merely  replied 
by  a  brief  affirmative. 

The  Father  waited. 

Like  a  child  repeating  an  ill-prepared  lesson,  his 
own  strong  personality  seemingly  swamped  by  the 
masterful  mind  held  over  him,  the  young  man  haltingly 
continued.  "  Yes :  my  .  .  .  love  for  a  woman." 

For  quite  a  moment,  the  Father  did  not  reply ;  then, 
with  rigid  courtesy  he  rose  from  his  chair  and  held 
out  his  hand,  but  he  did  not  look  at  the  man  before 
him  as  he  bade  him  a  curt  farewell. 

Robert  Saul  stood  amazed;  but  the  Father  had 
already  resumed  his  occupation,  and  black  rapidly  grew 
upon  white,  as  line  upon  line  was  traced  upon  the 
foolscap  by  a  hand  which  never  paused.  For  a  waiting 
moment  the  younger  man  searched  the  elder's  face, 
but  the  clear-cut,  emaciated  profile  might  almost  have 
belonged  to  the  dead,  so  white  and  still  it  seemed.  No 
hint  was  there  of  kindly  feeling;  no  whisper  of  a  liv- 
ing love.  The  man's  deliberate  coldness  angered  Rob- 
ert Saul.  He  had  armed  himself  against  a  display 
of  deep  displeasure  or,  mayhap,  against  the  persuasive 
eloquence  which  had  first  turned  his  thoughts  towards 
the  renunciatory  life  of  an  ascetic.  Either  he  could 
have  met;  but  instead,  he  found  himself  dismissed  with 
less  than  a  glance.  Keenly  pained,  but  too  proud  to 
protest,  he  turned  and  left  the  room. 

The  interview  had  occupied  barely  five  minutes,  but 
it  had  bereft  Robert  Saul  of  that  upon  which  he  had 
hitherto  leant  heavily.  Almost  had  he  worshipped 
this  man:  almost  had  he  fancied  himself  beloved  by 
the  Father,  whose  slightest  wish  had  been  his  law  for 
all  the  year  that  lay  behind.  With  cruel  suddenness 


54.  THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

he  had  been  roused  by  those  words  of  calm  dismissal. 
Hard  and  cold  as  the  winter  sleet,  they  had  stung 
him  sorely  as  they  fell  upon  his  heart:  sharp-edged, 
they  had  overshot  their  mark  and  cut  deeply  into  the 
foundations  of  an  unequal  friendship — a  friendship 
built  upon  the  shifting  sands  of  human  personality. 

Now,  his  most  earnest  desire  was  to  be  gone,  as 
soon  as  might  be,  for  the  whole  place  spoke  to  him 
of  wasted  energy  and  bitter  disappointment.  Hur- 
riedly strapping  up  his  dressing-bag  and  giving  a 
few  necessary  directions  to  the  lay  brother  who  at- 
tended upon  him,  he  threw  a  heavy  rug  across  his  arm 
and,  without  a  word  of  farewell,  stepped  out  into  the 
early  dawn  and  bent  his  steps  toward  the  station. 
And  as  he  walked,  his  thought  left  the  past  year  and 
dwelt  upon  the  period  of  time  which  had  immediately 
preceded  his  advent  to  St.  Anslem's — a  period  during 
which  the  whole  current  of  his  life  had  changed. 

And  the  Father?  We  left  him  calmly  writing,  ap- 
parently regardless  of  the  turbulent  feelings  which  his 
decisive  words  of  farewell  had  aroused  in  the  younger 
man  whom,  truth  to  tell,  he  loved  almost  as  a  son. 

As  Robert  Saul  left  the  room,  the  Father's  still 
face  changed;  he  appeared  to  be  listening  intently. 
Did  he  hope  that  the  man,  whom  he  had  loved  and 
tutored  for  so  long,  would  return  and  give  him  an 
opportunity  to  soften  somewhat  the  harshness  of  those 
few  words?  Nay,  the  young  man's  passionate,  head- 
strong nature  was  too  well  known  to  him;  and  far 
other  thoughts  occupied  his  mind,  for  he  was  not 
living  in  the  present  at  all. 

Suddenly,  his  face  grew  old  and  grey.  The  beauti- 
ful features  lost  something  of  their  classic  lines,  and 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE  55 

the  whole  man  broke  and  swayed,  like  some  sapling 
at  the  mercy  of  a  storm.  With  a  weary  cry,  he  flung 
himself  across  the  table  and  gripped  its  sides  with  all 
the  strength  which  his  thin  white  hands  contained. 
The  outline  of  his  spare  form  showed  hard  beneath 
the  cassock  which  he  wore,  as  it  shook  with  the  rend- 
ing thought  within  him.  Just  now,  for  him,  the  room 
was  filled  with  cruel  echoes  from  the  past.  He  looked 
back  twenty  years  and  saw  a  maiden  fair  and  pure. 
The  autumn  glory  of  crimson  and  of  gold  threw  glow- 
ing colour,  with  lavish  brush,  across  the  background 
of  the  picture.  Rich  browns  and  burnished  yellows 
bathed  her  feet,  as  she  stood  within  the  centre  of  the 
coppice,  and  the  setting  sun  washed  her  robes  with 
rosy  light  and  deepened  the  flush  of  love  upon  her 
brow.  The  bright  chestnut  of  her  hair  rivalled  the 
Indian  summer  tints  that  nature  painted  upon  the 
autumn  leaves,  and  the  dark  fire  of  her  eyes  told 
plainly  of  a  pride  scarce  humbled  by  the  greatness  of 
her  love. 

As  though  she  spoke  them  now,  he  heard  her  words 
of  absolute  surrender. 

"  I  can  fight  no  longer,  Philip,  I  am  yours.  See 
to  it  that  you  keep  my  honour  bright ;  for  the  Courcys 
ever  mate  with  the  highest  in  the  land,  and  I  had 
thought  to  do  likewise.  But  ...  I  can  fight  no 
more." 

Unable  longer  to  bear  these  voices  from  the  past, 
the  Father  rose  and  walked  with  weary  gait  towards 
the  door.  Locking  it,  he  glanced  across  the  room 
and  saw  a  sight  which  rushed  him  headlong  back 
among  his  restless  dead. 

Through  the  uncurtained  window  he  beheld  a  snow- 


56  THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

bound  land,  and  thought  caught  and  chained  him  to 
the  memory  of  a  cold  white  face  and  haughty  brow. 
From  the  picture  in  his  mind  all  light  and  warmth 
had  fled;  for  the  winter's  snows  rested  upon  the  cop- 
pice now,  and  the  trees  stood  stark  and  grim,  as 
though  defiant  of  the  fate  which  stripped  them  of 
their  summer's  joy  and  left  them  all  unclad  before  the 
winter's  icy  blast. 

Grand  in  the  majesty  of  her  righteous  wrath,  the 
maiden  stood  above  him,  one  slender  foot  pressed 
upon  a  gnarled  tree  root,  the  other  crushed  the  ivy 
that  clung  around  its  base.  Drawn  to  her  full  height, 
thus  looking  taller  than  her  wont,  she  spurned  his 
wretched  arguments  aside. 

"  I  do  not  understand,"  she  coldly  said,  "  a  religion 
built  upon  the  ashes  of  a  woman's  heart!  I  know 
naught  of  any  zeal,  fed  with  the  wreckage  of  a  woman's 
life."  With  proud  utterance  she  checked  the  protesta- 
tions he  had  ready.  "  Nay !  " — and  the  winter  sun- 
shine was  not  colder  than  her  smile — "  Nay !  spare  me 
more  I  pray;  the  choice  has  been  your  own,  not  mine, 
from  first  to  last.  I  have  loved  you  even  better  than 
my  ancient  name,  enough  to  wed  you,  all  unknown 
though  you  be.  But  now  " — again  that  fleeting  wintry 
gleam  shot  from  her  eyes,  but  left  her  lips  unmoved — • 
"  I  love  my  honour  best  of  all." 

With  head  held  high  and  arm  out-thrown,  she  pointed 
him  upon  his  way. 

"  Leave  me,"  she  commanded,  "  go  to  your  priestly 
cell  and  learn  there,  that  to  love  the  God  you  have 
not  seen  you  first  must  lose  yourself  and  learn  to  love 
your  brother  more." 

Then,   suddenly,   her   head   drooped   low   upon   her 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE  57 

breast ;  with  fingers  interlaced  and  palms  down-pressed 
she  voiced  the  height  and  the  depth  of  her  bitterest 
woe.  So  low  she  spoke,  her  tones  scarce  rose  above 
a  quivering  whisper  of  deep  pain,  yet  each  vibration 
reached  his  heart  and  pierced  him  through  and  through. 
"  All  might  have  been  forgiven,  Philip,  save  the  lie. 
But  your  cloth  proclaimed  the  sacred  touch  of  the 
episcopalian  hand,  and  I  deemed  you  one  of  God's 
elect,  as  far  above  a  subterfuge  as  is  Truth  above  the 
price  of  rubies.  Now,  I  am  bereft  of  all,  for  I  know 
not  what  is  Truth,  nor  where !  " 

Now  baffled  by  the  teeming  thought  which  would 
not  let  him  be,  the  tortured  man  sank  down  upon  his 
knees  and  pressed  his  fingers  across  his  eyes ;  but  he 
could  not  thus  shut  out  the  pain  which  was  always  his. 

And  he  asked  himself ;  "  Who  was  he  to  rebuke 
another  for  choosing  the  life  which  he  himself  desired, 
even  yet ! " 

As  though  it  were  yesterday  he  remembered  that, 
twenty  years  before,  a  young  man's  passion  had  swept 
him  off  his  feet  and  that,  already  vowed  to  the  life 
of  a  celibate,  he  had  allowed  himself  to  be  conquered 
by  the  beauty  and  grace  of  a  spotless  nature.  She 
had  known  nothing  of  his  consecrated  life  and,  deem- 
ing him  to  be  as  free  as  she  herself  stood  before  God 
and  man,  she  had  pledged  her  life  to  his.  Once  the 
surrender  had  been  made,  she  had  unveiled  before  him 
the  full  joy  of  her  love:  the  more  bitter  her  cup  of 
shame,  when  he,  affrighted  at  that  which  he  had  done, 
laid  bare  his  lie  before  her,  ere,  by  sheer  strength  of 
will,  he  turned  him  about  and  sought  the  refuge  of 
his  cell. 

From  that  day  unto  this,  he  had  fought  the  great 


58  THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

fight  out  upon  those  same  lines.  Always  had  desire 
been  defeated  in  the  end;  always  had  his  magnificent 
will  conquered  the  cravings  of  a  naturally  passionate 
nature.  To-day,  however,  the  Father  realised  that  the 
old  Adam  had  never  been  annihilated,  but  only  tem- 
porarily suppressed  each  time.  Had  his  long  life 
of  self-denial  then  been  in  vain?  Was  that  lie,  for 
which  his  young  manhood  was  in  the  main  responsible, 
ever  to  haunt  him  thus?  Nay!  his  will  should  exercise 
the  devil  as  before,  and  again  he  would  rise  above  the 
natural  man. 

Aye,  again,  and  once  again,  mayhap!  But  not  for 
always,  man  of  clay.  That  will  of  iron!  'Tis  but 
a  thing  of  naught — a  carnal  weapon  of  the  human 
mind.  And  "  the  carnal  mind  is  enmity  against  God." 
Look  upwards,  child  of  God!  Incline  thine  ear,  bend 
low  thine  heart,  stretch  high  both  hands  and  firmly 
grasping,  ever  wielding  the  two-edged  sword  of  the 
Spirit,  more  than  victor  thou  shalt  be ! 

"  For  to  be  carnally  minded  is  death ;  but  to  be 
spiritually  minded  is  life  and  peace."  For  "  God  is 
Spirit,"*  and  "  the  hour  cometh,  and  now  is,  when 
the  true  worshippers  shall  worship  the  Father  in  spirit 
and  in  truth:  for  the  Father  seeketh  such  to  worship 
Him." 

*  "  Revised  Version,"  marginal  note. 


CHAPTER    VI 

THE  KINGDOM  OF  HEAVEN 

Away  the  stone  is  rolled: 

Wake,  beloved,  wake ! 
Sweet,  thou'rt  in  the  fold: 

Wake,  beloved,  wake! 

Feel  the  arms  of  Love  beneath  thee: 

Wake,  beloved,  wake! 
See  the  smile  of  Love  to  greet  thee: 

Wake,  beloved,  wake ! 

Sweet,  the  dawn  is  here: 

Work,  beloved,  work! 
Keep  thy  watch  in  trustful  prayer: 

Work,  beloved,  work! 

Sweet,  the  day  grows  bright: 

Love,  beloved,  love! 
Watch,  and  pray  and  fight: 

Love,  beloved,  love! 

JUST  before  the  holidays  and  during  the  same  cold 
winter  as  that  which  saw  Robert  Saul  bid  his  lonely 
farewell  to  St.  Anselm,  several  small  boys  lay  sleep- 
ing in  one  of  the  dormitories  of  a  large  preparatory 
school.  All  England  lay  beneath  that  deep  darkness 
which  often  heralds  the  dawn,  save  where,  in  the  open 
country,  the  snow-clad  fields  lent  a  faint  light  to  the 
scene.  The  bright  moon  had  gone  to  rest  and  the 
long  narrow  room,  in  which  a  dozen  beds  were  ranged 
side  by  side,  was  entirely  dark. 

59 


60  THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

A  week  ago  the  Rev.  Robert  Saul  had  brought  his 
nephew,  Malcolm  Stuart,  a  little  Anglo-Indian,  to 
this  school,  and  had  left  him  there  the  more  confi- 
dently when  he  found,  among  the  older  boys,  the 
brother  of  an  old  college  friend  of  his  own.  Robby 
Campbell  was,  it  appeared,  the  youngest  of  a  large 
family,  while  Robert  Saul's  old  friend,  James,  was  the 
eldest.  The  thoughtful  Scotchman  and  the  brilliant 
young  Scholar  of  New  College  had  become  intimate 
at  Oxford,  but  the  development  of  their  respective 
views  upon  religious  matters  had,  of  late,  built  up  a 
wall  of  reserve  between  them  which  neither  attempted 
to  break  down.  Nevertheless,  Robert  Saul  was  relieved 
to  think  that  Robby  Campbell,  who,  he  observed,  was 
a  sufficiently  self-contained  little  lad,  would  shepherd 
his  nephew  during  his  first  term  at  a  boarding  school. 
For  Malcolm  was  strange  alike  to  England  and  to 
school  life,  and  was  but  a  bit  of  a  child  to  fight  all  his 
own  battles  unaided. 

At  this  early  hour  the  whole  house  was  asleep  when 
a  boy's  voice  was  raised  in  fear,  summoning  the  aid  of 
a  friendly  hand. 

"  Robby,  quick !     I  want  you !  " 

The  childish  treble  shot  through  the  darkness  of 
the  wintry  dawn  and  roused  to  conscious  responsibility 
the  sleeping  boy,  whose  proud  privilege  it  was  to  be 
Captain  of  the  dormitory. 

"What's  the  matter,  Malcolm?" 

"  I  want  you,  Robby,  I — I'm  frightened." 

The  note  now  struck  was  full  of  pain,  and  the  sound 
wavered  and  fell  as  the  boy's  eyes  grew  big  with  fear. 

The  floor  felt  hard  and  cold  against  the  Captain's 
little  bare  feet,  and  oh !  his  bed  was  nice  and  warm ! 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE  61 

but  Malcolm  was  "  such  a  little  kid,"  and  such  a  very 
new  boy,  and — well !  it  wasn't  so  long  ago  that  the 
Captain  had  been  a  new  boy  himself!  And  so,  blink- 
ing sleepy  eyes,  and  stumbling  against  little  white 
beds — what  a  lot  of  them  there  seemed  to  be ! — the 
boy  reached  the  bedside  where  sat  the  demon,  Fear. 

The  Captain  didn't  say  much;  he  was  so  sleepy  and 
it  was  just  cold!  but  he  put  two  hard  arms  around  the 
baby  neck — for  Malcolm  was  scarcely  more — and 
patted  the  short-cropped  head  with  his  schoolboy  hand. 

Presently  the  Captain  forgot  the  cold,  and  he  wasn't 
sleepy  any  more,  for  poor  little  Malcolm  was  blub- 
bing out  something  so  dreadful — something  about  "  no 
one  to  love  him — only  Uncle  Robert,  his  guardian, 
who  gave  him  toys — lots — but  didn't  love  him  at  all, 
and  was  often  very  stern ;  and  never  kissed  him  like — 
like — mother  did,  before — she — went  to  India." 

At  that  the  Captain  considered.  Boys  never  kissed, 
of  course;  but  it  must  be  awful  to  have  no  mother's 
kisses  in  the  holidays;  yet,  he  thought  .  .  .  well! 
he  just  didn't  think  any  more  about  it,  but  he  rubbed 
a  plump  cheek  up  and  down  and  all  around  the  little 
head,  and  put  a  shy  kiss  somewhere  on  Malcolm's  baby 
face.  Day  was  at  hand,  but  it  was  still  almost  dark, 
and  he  accidentally  fetched  up  in  the  region  of  nose 
tip,  but  Malcolm  was  too  forlorn  to  be  critical,  and 
love  was  too  rare  and  nice  a  thing  to  be  anything 
but  greedy  about.  And  so,  presently,  when  the  Cap- 
tain said  that  he  must  go  back  to  bed,  small  man  Mal- 
colm was  no  longer  afraid,  for  his  heart  was  warm  and 
not  hungry  any  more,  and  best  of  all  the  phantom 
"  Fear  "  had  fled. 

He  didn't  call  it  bad  names,  of  course,  nor  analyse 


62  THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

his  sensations  at  all  (no  boy  of  six  would  do  so),  but 
he  just  curled  up  into  a  little  drowsy  heap  and  slept 
as  sweet,  untroubled  childhood  should. 

But  the  Captain  lay  awake.  .  .  .  And  the  lips 
were  still  and  the  eyes  most  grave,  as  the  child  gazed 
steadfastly  towards  the  faint  gold  light  of  the  coming 
day,  and  those  angels,  which  always  behold  God's  face, 
were  with  him,  as  the  boy's  young  heart  gave  thanks, 
and  knew  that  "  God  is  Love." 


THE  WORLD,  THE  FLESH  AND  EVIL 

Truth  crushed  to  earth  shall  rise  again: 
The  eternal  years  of  God  are  hers; 

But  error,  wounded,  writhes  with  pain, 
And  dies  among  her  worshippers. 

— William  Cullen  Bryant. 

MR.  SAUL  was  alone  during  the  whole  of  his  journey 
to  London,  and  he  was  very  glad  to  be  thus  undis- 
turbed, for  he  was  still  dwelling  upon  the  past.  It 
was  nearly  four  years  ago,  he  remembered,  that  the 
social  world  of  England  had  rung  with  the  names  of 
Lady  Cecil  Gwynne  and  the  Prince  Leo  Berne ;  and 
now  Robert  Saul's  mind  was  occupied  in  reviewing 
their  wedding  day,  upon  which  occasion  he  had  seen 
the  Lady  Cecil  Gwynne  for  the  first  time  in  his  life. 
The  true  story  of  that  strange  wedding  has  never  yet 
been  told;  it  is  as  follows. 

Upon  a  hot  June  day  in  the  height  of  the  London 
season,  much  of  the  smart  world  had  already  assem- 
bled in  a  great  London  church,  when  Lady  Margaret 
Courcy  hastily  entered  a  house  in  Grosvenor  Square. 
Waving  aside  the  servant,  who  came  forward  to  know 
her  wish,  she  passed  him  and  herself  opened  a  door 
upon  the  left  of  the  hall. 

"  Cousin  Margaret ! "  The  Earl  of  Brecon  was 
astonished,  and  for  once  he  showed  what  he  felt.  He 

63 


64  THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

was,  besides,  a  little  discomfited,  and  this  also  was 
made  evident  by  his  slightly  ruffled  demeanour. 

"Brecon,  you  cannot  know  what  you  are  doing! 
You  cannot  really  mean  to  marry  that  child  to  Leo 
Berne ! " 

The  Earl  glanced  indifferently  at  a  beautiful  white 
marble  clock  which  stood  upon  the  mantelpiece.  He 
had  quite  regained  his  self-possession,  but  was  inwardly 
very  angry  with  himself  for  having  lost  it,  even  for 
a  moment.  He  realised  that  he  must  be  in  a  nervous 
mood,  and  sought  to  control  all  outward  signs  of  his 
disquiet.  Thus  it  was  that  his  manner,  always  cold, 
became  deliberately  frigid  in  its  hauteur. 

"  The  others  have  already  reached  the  church,  and 
we  start  in  five  minutes,"  was  his  sole  answer  to  Lady 
Margaret's  protest. 

His  cousin  rose  impatiently  from  the  chair  into  which 
she  had  thrown  herself  but  one  minute  before. 

"  Brecon,"  she  pleaded  passionately,  "  think  before 
it  is  too  late.  Cecil  is  scarcely  seventeen,  while  Prince 
Leo's  grandchild  is  over  twenty!  Oh!  I  know  all  that 
you  would  say !  I  know  that  he  is  hugely  rich  and  of 
princely  birth,  but,  Brecon — you,  you  do  not  know 
what  his  life  has  been!  For  years  you  have  but  rarely 
emerged  from  your  library.  What  do  you  know  of  the 
world  into  which  you  would  thus  thoughtlessly  plunge 
your  sister?  Think  of  her  education  under  your  aunt's 
wing!  She  is  but  a  baby  still.  Think  of  that  man's 
life !  or  at  any  rate  believe  me  when  I  tell  you  that  he 
is  no  fit  mate  for  any  girl." 

"  This  certainly  is  no  fit  time  to  discuss  the  matter, 
my  dear  cousin ;  you  should  have  come  to  me  weeks 
ago."  The  Earl  spoke  softly  and  with  great  com- 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE  65 

posure,  and  as  he  spoke  he  pressed  the  bell  behind  him. 
"  Inform  her  ladyship's  maid,"  he  said  to  the  ser- 
vant who  answered  his  summons,  "  that  the  carriage 
is  waiting." 

Lady  Margaret  Courcy  stood  bewildered  by  the 
emergency  of  the  moment.  Had  she  raced  her  way 
across  an  ocean  only  to  be  too  late!  One  more  thing 
she  could  and  would  try;  she  would  see  Cecil  herself. 

Without  another  word  to  her  cousin,  she  used  the 
right  which  her  close  kinship,  coupled  with  long  cus- 
tom, gave  her  and  sought  the  girl  in  her  own  room. 

"  Cousin  Margaret !  " 

The  words  which  greeted  her  as  she  opened  the  bed- 
room door  were  precisely  the  same  as  those  which  she 
had  heard  upon  entering  the  drawing-room,  and  again 
they  held  a  note  of  astonishment  within  their  tone :  but, 
this  time,  they  told  of  much  besides. 

Lady  Margaret  had  intended  to  say  many  things, 
but  now  she  found  herself  struck  speechless.  The  tide 
of  her  passionate  displeasure  was  all  frozen  by  the 
sight  of  her  young  cousin  in  her  bridal  gown,  for  sud- 
denly she  realised  fully  that  she  was  indeed  too  late ! 

Lady  Cecil  Gwynne  dismissed  her  maid  with  a  word 
and  then  turned  and  held  the  elder  woman  with  both 
hands. 

"  Cousin  Margaret,"  she  whispered ;  "  do  you  know 
that  picture?  " 

Margaret  Courcy  turned  the  child's  face  to  the  light ; 
but  the  eyes  were  calm,  though  ringed  about  the  lids 
with  shades  of  faintest  purple. 

"  My  dear,"  she  answered  softly,  "  what  picture  do 
you  mean?  " 

The  girl  pressed  her  head  against  her  cousin's  shoul- 


66  THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

der,  as  I  have  seen  a  baby  push  its  way  about  its 
mother's  breast.  Then  slowly  she  lifted  it  and  threw  it 
back,  clinging  the  while  with  nervous  fingers  to  the 
strong  touch  of  the  elder  woman's  hands. 

"  It  is  painted  by  Brickdale,"  she  muttered,  "  I  saw 
it  three  days  ago,  and  ever  since  it  has  haunted  me 
by  day  and  night.  It  shows  a  girl — like  me,  you 
know  "  (and  she  glanced  slowly  down  upon  her  wed- 
ding dress),  "  and — by  her  side — her  bridegroom:  and 
oh !  "  she  cried,  "  what  does  it  mean  ?  Underneath  these 
words  are  written,  '  Thou  fool !  this  night  thy  soul 
shall  be  required  of  thee.' ' 

The  girl's  low  mutter  had  changed  into  a  feeble 
wail,  and  she  trembled  now  in  every  limb. 

Before  Lady  Margaret  Courcy  could  say  one  word 
of  comfort,  there  came  a  sharp  rap  upon  the  door,  and 
the  Earl's  voice  was  heard,  courteous  as  ever,  but  per- 
emptory in  its  tone. 

"  Cecil,  we  must  start  at  once." 

The  Lady  Cecil  Gwynne  flung  one  wild  look  about 
her,  but  her  room  spoke  loudly  of  social  tyranny  and 
of  that  great  whitened  sepulchre  which  men  call  "  the 
world,"  before  the  door  of  which  there  stood,  she 
knew,  a  stone  too  heavy  for  her  to  roll  away.  There 
upon  the  wall  hung  a  picture  of  that  Royal  Duchess 
who  had  chosen  for  her  child  a  husband,  while  that 
child  was  yet  a  child.  Nor  had  she  paused  to  ask 
whether  holy  inspiration  would  be  present  while  they 
wed,  as  upon  that  day  when  man  and  woman  stood 
together  long  ago  in  Galilee,  and  the  Christ  turned 
water  into  wine.  Within  that  desk  there  lay,  she  knew, 
a  hundred  letters  and  more,  each  one  glossing  over 
with  soft  words  a  thing  which  never  should  have  been — 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE  67 

the  betrothal  of  one  who  knew  not,  to  one  who  knew 
that  which  never  should  be  known ;  the  betrothal  of 
one  who  had  not  eaten  of  the  poisoned  fruit,  to  one 
who  had  partaken  of  the  knowledge  of  good  and  evil 
so  freely,  that  now  he  knew  not  which  was  good  nor 
which  was  evil.  For  to  eat  of  this  tree,  the  head  must 
be  buried  in  the  mist,  and  the  vision  blinded  by  the 
thoughts  of  earth.  Above  the  mist — in  the  sunlight 
of  Truth — there  is  no  such  tree;  for  evil  cannot  be 
where  all  is  Good.  And  in  the  Light  of  reality  there 
grows  only  "  the  tree  of  Life "  in  the  midst  of  the 
garden — that  tree,  the  leaves  of  which  are  "  for  the 
healing  of  the  nations." 

Now,  as  the  girl's  baffled  glance  sought  her  cousin's 
face  for  aid,  the  Earl  knocked  once  more.  Helpless, 
she  turned  and,  opening  the  door,  led  the  way  down- 
stairs. She  stepped  instantly  into  the  waiting  car- 
riage and  knew  that  the  Earl  seated  himself  beside  her, 
but  she  neither  raised  her  eyes  nor  noticed  him  at  all. 
Proudly  she  held  herself  aloof  and  gave  no  token  of 
his  presence  there. 

Left  alone  in  the  deserted  room,  Lady  Margaret 
Courcy  dropped  suddenly  upon  her  knees. 

"  Dear  God,"  she  cried,  "  stop  this  foul  thing,  I 
pray!  .  .  .  For  such  a  child,  'tis  blackest  shame  to 
wed  with  Leo  Berne !  " 

The  church  was  lavishly  decorated;  indeed  the  air 
was  overweighted  by  the  scent  of  the  tall  lilies,  which 
lined  the  chancel  steps  and  fronted  the  choir  stalls. 
They  looked  a  little  hard  and  cold  against  their  back- 
ground of  green  fern,  standing  stiffly  just  where  the 
hired  hand  had  placed  them.  No  woman's  loving  eye 


68  THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

had  criticised  the  whole,  else  here  and  there  a  softer 
touch  would  now  have  been  revealed. 

The  bridgegroom  waited  with  what  grace  he  could 
beside  the  topmost  pew.  But  in  his  heart  he  cursed 
the  ways  of  his  tyrant  world,  which  make  a  public 
show  of  every  man  and  maid  upon  their  wedding  day. 
Had  he  been  less  worn,  he  could  have  carried  himself 
with  a  braver  face,  but  there  comes  a  time  to  such  men 
as  Leo  Berne,  when  even  they  themselves  must  realise 
that  no  art  can  restore  aught  of  that  which  they  have 
squandered  into  the  lap  of  sensuality  and  shame. 

"  Would  she  never  come  ?  " 

By  the  great  doors  there  waited  a  little  lad  and  a 
little  lass.  With  much-frilled  frock  and  quaint  head- 
gear the  little  lady  held  her  own ;  the  worldly  product 
of  a  worldly  world,  she  stood  there  all  too  self-possessed. 
While  the  wee  laddie,  fresh  from  his  Highland  home, 
with  strong  brown  limbs  uncovered  at  the  knee,  held 
himself  with  a  freer  grace,  born  of  the  wildness  of  the 
merry  moorland  breeze  and  the  breadth  of  the  northern 
skies.  And  his  sunny  smile  woke  in  many  a  weary  heart 
sweet  memories  of  golden  gorse  and  heather  bells. 

"  Robby !  "—the  little  Lady  Isobel  spoke  softly,  but 
with  intonation  cold  and  proud — "  See !  here  comes  the 
bride!  you  must  hold  her  train  up  there — just  where 
the  orange  flowers  rest  upon  the  lace." 

As  the  soft  rustle  of  silvered  satin  met  the  ear,  pro- 
claiming the  advent  of  the  bride,  every  head  turned  as 
far  as  etiquette  permitted,  and  more  than  one  heart 
grew  sick,  more  than  one  manly  brow  flushed  hot  with 
wrath,  as  the  fair,  pure  maid  passed  up  the  aisle. 

Many  noted  that  the  bride's  young  face  was  white 
and  stern  withal  for  one  of  tender  years,  and  her  car- 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE  69 

riage  more  rigid  than  it  should  have  been.  With 
stately  step  and  coldest  mien  she  passed  between  the 
expectant  throng.  Her  little  hand  scarce  touched  her 
brother's  arm,  and  she  leant  upon  him  not  at  all.  Too 
soon  the  organ's  dying  breath  was  hushed,  and  the 
priest's  words  were  heard  with  their  note  of  solemn 
warning — seldom  heeded  by  those  who,  having  ears,  yet 
do  not  hear.  "  Therefore,"  he  read,  "  if  any  man  can 
show  any  just  cause  why  they  may  not  lawfully  be 
joined  together,  let  him  now  speak,  or  else  hereafter 
forever  hold  his  peace." 

One  woman  there  was  in  that  great  assembly,  who 
almost  raised  her  voice  in  protest.  But  what  had  she 
to  say,  that  priest  or  layman  could  take  legal  note  of? 
Perforce  she  must  stand  by  and  hold  her  peace,  while 
the  priest  charged  man  and  maid  that,  as  they  both 
should  answer  at  the  judgment  day,  when  the  secrets 
of  all  hearts  shall  be  revealed,  if  either  knew  any  im- 
pediment why  they  might  not  couple  in  the  sight  of 
God,  they  should  now  confess  it. 

Then  a  fresh  voice  struck  upon  each  waiting  ear,  as 
a  second  priest  came  forward  and  asked  the  man  before 
him,  if  he  would  keep  himself  for  her  alone,  as  long  as 
they  both  should  live?  And  the  old  man's  voice,  worn 
out  before  its  time,  made  glib  reply,  "  I  will." 

But  ere  the  priest  could  turn  him  to  the  maid  and 
ask  the  self-same  question  of  her  youth,  a  strange 
thing  came  about,  and  all  that  congregation  stood 
aghast,  bewildered  by  the  action  of  a  frightened  child. 

It  happened  in  a  moment,  as  such  things  must,  or 
not  at  all.  Following  the  priest's  grave  glance  as  it 
rested  upon  the  man  beside  her,  Lady  Cecil  Gwynne 
had  met  her  bridegroom's  eye.  Though  dim  with  age, 


70  THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

it  yet  held  the  light  of  an  unholy  desire,  which  chilled 
her  very  heart  and  almost  stopped  its  beat.  As  in  a 
lightning  flash  she  saw  the  chasm  over  which  she  hung, 
though  even  then  she  realised  only  something  of  its 
depth. 

With  rapid  movement,  she  swung  from  east  to  west, 
and  fled  with  swift  and  purposeful  steps  straight  down 
the  aisle.  Her  face  was  whiter  than  before,  and  quiv- 
ered in  its  pain,  but  the  terror  in  her  eyes  was  worst  of 
all  to  see.  Still  speeding  her  footsteps  on  the  while, 
nor  looking  to  the  right  or  left,  "  Margaret,"  she  whis- 
pered, through  tense  lips,  "  Margaret  Courcy,  come  to 
me!" 

It  was  the  hour  of  her  greatest  need,  and  Love  arose 
and  met  her  in  the  way,  sending  the  comfort  of  a 
woman's  presence  to  her  side.  And  thus,  her  trembling 
hand  warm-wrapped  within  another's  strong  and  tender 
clasp,  she  passed  without  the  door. 

The  swiftness  of  her  flight  had  left  the  Earl,  her 
brother,  thunderstruck,  till  suddenly  black  rage  pos- 
sessed him  and,  with  face  aflame,  he  strode  along  the 
aisle;  nor  paused  until  his  foot  pressed  hard  upon  his 
carriage  step. 

"  Her  Ladyship,"  the  footman  told  him,  "  has  been 
taken  ill,  and  the  Lady  Margaret  Courcy  has  driven 
home  with  her." 

Within  the  church  the  old  man  turned  him  to  the 
wall,  and  wept.  No  sorrow  was  in  his  heart,  for  he 
had  only  loved  her  youth !  Nor  was  he  bereft  of  aught ; 
with  title  and  with  lands  he  could  buy  him  another 
bride  as  young  and  fair.  But  men  and  women  laughed 
at  him,  and  he  had  rather  that  he  died.  Though 
every  face  was  grave,  though  every  mouth  was  stern, 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE  71 

he  saw  the  laughter  tremble  in  each  eye;  and  so — he 
turned  him  to  the  wall  and  wept,  and  hated  all  the 
world. 

Just  as  I  have  told  you  now,  this  thing  happened, 
and  as  Robert  Saul's  train  sped  Londonward  upon  the 
morning  of  his  departure  from  St.  Ansehn's  he  men- 
tally reviewed  that  weird  marriage  scene,  for  he  it  was 
who,  turning  to  the  maid  to  receive  her  marriage  vows, 
had  suddenly  seen  written  upon  her  terror-stricken  face 
the  purpose  which,  an  instant  later,  struck  consterna- 
tion into  the  heart  of  each  man  and  woman  in  that 
church. 

And,  now,  he  had  irrevocably  dissolved  his  ties  at 
St.  Anselm's,  in  order  that  he  might  ask  that  maid  to 
become  his  wife. 


PART  II 
MORTALS   WEAVING  IN   THE   DARK 


CHAPTER    VIII 

A  MAN  AND  A  WOMAN 

Sensations  sweet 
Felt  in  the  blood  and  felt  along  the  heart. 

— Wordsworth. 

ARRIVING  in  London,  Mr.  Saul  drove  to  his  hotel  and 
ordered  breakfast.  He  went  straight  to  his  room,  and 
emerged  an  hour  later  apparently  much  refreshed.  The 
sharp  challenge  of  ice-cold  water  had  sent  the  blood 
tingling  through  his  veins  and  had,  for  the  moment, 
dashed  aside  the  marks  of  his  sleepless  night. 

But  he  was  nervous  and  restless  still,  for  the  issue 
of  the  day  meant  much  to  him.  He  scarcely  tasted  the 
fried  sole  upon  his  plate.  Though  he  had  not  broken 
his  fast  before  leaving  St.  Anselm's,  he  could  not  eat 
the  dainty  meal  before  him.  He  was  a  man  quite  un- 
accustomed to  be  thus  controlled  by  circumstance,  and 
half  unconsciously  he  resented  this  new-born  helpless- 
ness. It  was  a  small  matter,  however,  and  would  pass, 
of  course ;  certainly  it  was  not  worth  a  second  thought, 
while  the  purpose  of  his  life  still  lay  before  him. 

Returning  to  his  own  room,  Mr.  Saul  passed  his 
silk  handkerchief  round  his  hat,  and  brushed,  for  the 
third  time  that  morning,  his  already  spotless  coat. 
He  was  at  all  times  a  man  of  particular  neatness, 
though  of  personal  vanity  he  possessed  scarcely  a  par- 
ticle. To-day,  however,  for  the  very  first  time  in  his 
life,  he  asked  himself  whether  there  was  that  about  him 

75 


76  THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

which  women  deem  desirable?  He  saw  nothing  to  at- 
tract in  the  strong,  rather  harsh  lines  of  his  face ;  and 
indeed,  the  straight  beauty  of  his  features  was  some- 
what marred  by  certain  indications  of  obstinacy,  de- 
noted chiefly  by  the  overweight  of  the  chin.  The  head 
was  magnificent  but  for  this  defect,  though  the  more 
critical  of  his  acquaintances  would  have  said  that  the 
large  eyes  were  too  gloomy  and  lent  darkness  rather 
than  light  to  the  clever  face.  His  form  was  erect,  but 
his  carriage  spoke  plainly  of  a  certain  habit  of  thought 
which  made  him  attempt  always  to  rule,  when  at  times 
his  object  would  have  been  more  harmoniously  achieved 
could  he  have  called  sweet  patience  to  his  aid.  But 
standing  high  above  his  fellows  in  point  of  intellect 
and  being  possessed  of  a  rare  strength  of  character,  he 
often  carried  all  before  him,  and  his  faults  were  usually 
completely  lost  sight  of.  He  was,  however,  a  man  who 
won  his  way  far  more  often  by  means  of  his  unique 
personality  and  a  certain  invincible  determination,  than 
by  the  love  he  inspired.  Indeed,  there  were  few  who 
loved  Robert  Saul,  though  there  were  many  who  asked 
nothing  better  than  to  follow  where  he  should  lead.  It 
had  always  been  so.  At  school  and  at  college  he  had 
inspired  a  deep  admiration  among  both  those  who  knew 
him  slightly  and  among  his  very  few  intimate  ac- 
quaintances, but  he  had  always  been  a  man  of  rare 
friendships  and  of  a  solitary  habit  of  life.  Thus  it  was 
that  a  great  heart-hunger  had  grown  with  his  growth 
and  would  now  no  longer  be  denied;  hence  his  real 
suffering  that  morning  when  the  Father  had  so  curtly 
dismissed  him  from  St.  Anselm,  cutting  him  to  the 
quick  by  giving  the  lie  to  the  affection  which  Robert 
Saul  had  believed  existed  between  them. 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE  77 

As  he  walked  towards  Grosvenor  Square,  he  asked 
himself  whether  he  had  just  made  the  great  mistake 
of  his  life!  H'e  reflected  that  the  maid  of  seventeen 
had,  with  passing  years,  grown  into  a  womanhood 
which,  by  reason  of  an  unusual  reserve,  betrayed  but 
little  of  itself  and  was  almost  a  hidden  book  to  him. 
He  realised,  however,  that  Lady  Cecil  Gwynne  had 
allowed  him  more  than  once  to  know  something  of 
her  deeper  nature.  Sometimes  he  fancied  that  a  sort 
of  gratitude  had  stirred  her  to  a  greater  freedom,  when 
alone  with  him,  than  ever  she  permitted  to  another. 
Once,  though  only  once,  she  had  referred  to  their  first 
strange  meeting,  upon  what  should  have  been  her  wed- 
ding day. 

"  My  brother,"  she  had  told  him,  "  is  a  man  so 
studious  and  so  unready  to  believe  the  worst  of  any- 
one, that  I  easily  understand  his  ignorance  of  Prince 
Leo's  character.  Many  have  misunderstood  the  line 
he  took,  and  at  the  time  judged  his  action  harshly.  I 
myself  thought  that  he  acted  selfishly ;  later,  I  realised 
that,  to  a  man  of  his  precise  and  quiet  habits,  the  ad- 
vent of  a  sister  needing  his  guidance  through  the 
maze  of  an  indefinite  number  of  seasons  seemed  an 
overwhelming  inconvenience.  Our  mother  died  when 
he  was  only  sixteen,  and  he,  ever  engrossed  in  his 
books,  took  no  note  of  the  twentieth  century  girl,  who 
has  been  born  with  independence  in  her  blood.  Thus 
Prince  Leo's  offer  for  my  hand,  made  as  it  was  while  I 
was  yet  abroad,  appeared  to  him  to  come  as  a  means 
of  relief  from  a  tiresome  position.  It  was  incompre- 
hensible to  him  that  I  should  wish  to  oppose  such  an 
alliance,  for  he  regarded  it,  save  for  the  one  unimpor- 
tant detail  of  the  disparity  in  age,  as  one  that  was  in 


78  THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

every  way  desirable."  And  then  she  had  added,  with 
a  sudden  shyness,  "  Mr.  Saul,  I  should  like,  this  once, 
to  thank  you  for  your  help  upon  that  day.  It  was 
something  in  your  grave  look  which  finally  awoke  me 
to  a  knowledge  of  the  unhallowed  life  before  me,  should 
I  marry  where  I  could  never  love.  It  was  something 
in  your  face  which  supported  my  desperate  resolve  to 
stop  the  performance  of  that  which,  quite  suddenly,  I 
clearly  saw  to  be  a  sacrilegious  ceremony." 

Musing  upon  the  past,  Mr.  Saul  reached  Lord 
Brecon's  house,  and  was  recalled  to  the  present  by 
hearing  a  motor  slacken  speed  behind  him.  He  turned 
abruptly  round  and,  recognising  Lady  Cecil  Gwynne, 
hastened  towards  the  car,  from  which  she  was  just 
alighting. 

Then  he  behaved  stupidly,  a  thing  he  rarely  did: 
he  was  absurdly  embarrassed.  He  had  pictured  their 
meeting  many  times  during  the  last  twelve  hours,  but 
now  that  it  came  unexpectedly  upon  him,  he  remem- 
bered only  that  he  had  not  seen  the  woman  he  loved 
for  a  year,  and  that  it  was  good  to  be  with  her  again. 
For  the  moment,  he  completely  forgot  his  surroundings 
— forgot  the  well-trained  silent  men-servants,  one  of 
whom  stood  behind  his  mistress,  while  another  held  open 
the  hall  door.  A  slight  gravity  passed,  as  a  shadow, 
over  the  brightness  of  Cecil  Gwynne's  face,  and  Mr. 
Saul  became  aware  that  he  was  holding  her  hand 
longer  than  was  permissible.  Hurriedly  he  stood  aside, 
flushing  hotly ;  angry  with  himself,  yet  helpless,  for  to 
apologise  was  impossible. 

"  My  brother,"  Lady  Cecil  said,  "  hopes  that  you 
will  forgive  him  if  he  is  a  little  late.  I  got  your  note 
by  the  second  post  this  morning,  just  as  he  was  start- 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE  79 

ing  for  the  city,  but  he  expects  to  be  back,  at  any  rate, 
soon  after  lunch.  There  is  a  knotty  point,"  and  Cecil 
Gwynne  smiled,  "  in  Sanskrit  which  he  thinks  that  you 
can  solve.  He  is  quite  looking  forward  to  a  long  and 
learned  discussion  with  you  upon  the  subject;  he  be- 
comes more  of  a  bibliomaniac  every  day." 

Chatting  thus  easily,  his  hostess  led  the  way  into 
the  library,  and  following  her,  Mr.  Saul  replied  that 
his  Sanskrit  was  rusty,  but  that  he  would  do  his  best. 

Lady  Cecil  Gwynne's  perfect  self-possession  at  once 
put  him  at  his  ease,  and  he  became  immediately  the 
well-bred  man  of  the  world. 

During  lunch  they  found,  as  such  people  would,  all 
that  was  necessary  to  say,  and  sustained  a  bright  con- 
versation about  men  and  matters  of  interest. 

Mr.  Saul  knew  that  his  hostess  was  an  unusually 
well-educated  woman,  for,  after  the  esclandre  of  a  few 
years  ago,  she  had  completely  given  herself  up  to  a 
life  of  quiet  study  and  had  only  lately  taken  her  place 
in  society  by  her  brother's  side. 

One  gift  the  brother  and  sister  possessed  in  com- 
mon; both  were  musical  to  a  remarkable  degree  and 
both  had  devoted  much  time  and  expense  to  perfecting 
their  talents.  Indeed,  music  had  been  the  bond  which 
had  first  drawn  Mr.  Saul  into  their  circle.  He  had  not 
only  a  passionate  love  for  it,  but  was  the  possessor  of 
a  beautiful  voice.  When  he  sang,  even  the  hypercritical 
were  satisfied,  for  he  was  a  man  of  too  fastidious  a 
taste  to  be  content  to  do  anything  indifferently  well. 
His  clear  sweet  tenor  would  never  have  been  heard,  even 
by  an  average  audience,  had  not  circumstances  enabled 
him  to  cultivate  his  gift  to  a  pitch  of  rare  perfection. 

Now,  he  and  his  hostess  talked  of  music  and  litera- 


80  THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

ture,  and  Lady  Cecil  was  able  to  tell  him  of  much  that 
he  had  missed  during  his  year  of  voluntary  exile  from 
the  world.  But  it  was  a  relief  to  them  when  lunch  was 
over,  though  no  onlooker  could  have  guessed  that  both 
his  mind  and  hers  had  been  busy  during  the  whole  re- 
past with  purely  personal  matters,  the  while  that  they 
had  kept  the  ball  of  conversation  rolling  so  gaily. 

Rising,  Lady  Cecil  led  the  way  through  the  large 
folding  doors  into  the  library.  This  was  a  delightful 
room,  and  seemed  to  catch  and  hold  all  the  brightness 
that  the  winter's  day  gave  forth.  Mr.  Saul  knew  his 
hostess'  sun-loving  nature,  and  that  the  rooms  she  oc- 
cupied should  be  full  of  light  and  colour  seemed  nat- 
ural to  him.  For  a  little  while,  he  did  not  try  to  find 
much  to  say.  He  was  content  simply  to  be  there ;  and, 
indeed,  he  now  wondered  what  fictitious  power  could 
ever  have  drawn  him  to  turn  from  this  life  of  joy  and 
gladness  towards  the  sombre  existence  which  he  had 
voluntarily  endured  for  a  whole  year  past. 

And  Lady  Cecil  Gwynne  wondered  too — wondered 
why  Robert  Saul  had  thus  suddenly  rushed  back  into 
her  life  without  explanation,  even  as  he  had  left  it! 
His  note  had  told  her  nothing.  And  yet  it  seemed  to 
her  that  he  would  not  have  written  at  all — would  not 
now  be  there — unless  his  doubts  and  fears  were  finally 
at  rest.  That  he  loved  her  she  knew  perfectly ;  for  she 
had  clearly  seen  his  struggle  when,  a  year  before,  he 
had  chosen  that  which  he  then  believed  to  be  the  better 
part.  At  the  time  she  had  been  aware  that  one  word, 
one  look  even,  would  have  kept  him  by  her  side — her 
declared  and  affianced  lover.  But  it  had  never  crossed 
her  mind  to  say  that  word  or  give  the  smallest  sign. 
Her  nature  was  intensely  proud  and  had  been  wounded 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE  81 

to  the  core  when,  at  the  age  of  seventeen,  she  had  stood 
before  her  world,  the  involuntary  heroine  of  a  social 
fiasco.  She  knew — indeed  she  had  known  for  a  long 
time — that  unless  she  married  Robert  Saul,  she  would 
remain  unmarried  always.  But  not  even  to  her  one  most 
loved  and  intimate  friend,  Lady  Margaret  Courcy, 
would  she  have  breathed  the  fact  of  Mr.  Saul's  devotion 
to  her,  until  he  should  completely  capitulate  to  its 
power  and  ask  her  to  be  his  wife.  She  had  believed  him 
to  be  mistaken  when  he  left  her  side,  but  she  was  wise 
beyond  her  years,  and  had  then  told  herself  that  no 
emotional  religion  of  that  kind  could  hold  such  a  man 
for  long.  She  had  felt,  however,  that  it  was  best  for 
him  to  test  its  strength,  as  thus  he  would  most  surely 
discover  its  weakness.  Now,  he  had  either  come  to  tell 
her  that  she  had  been  right,  or — he  had  come  to  bid 
her  a  final  farewell. 

Putting  his  coffee  cup  upon  an  inlaid  stool  beside 
him,  Mr.  Saul  watched  the  girl  for  some  moments  as 
she  knelt  by  the  fire  idly  beating  the  burning  logs  into 
a  brighter  blaze.  He  noted  the  richness  of  her  white 
cloth  dress,  and  the  beauty  of  the  single  diamond  which 
caught  together  the  lace  upon  her  bosom,  leaving  her 
firm  white  throat  uncovered. 

He  pressed  his  foot  upon  the  thick  carpet  which 
almost  covered  the  polished  boards,  and  as  he  did  so 
shifted  his  chair  a  little  in  order  that  he  might  watch 
her  the  more  comfortably.  His  slight  movement  turned 
a  revolving  bookcase  which  stood  beside  him  and  a  feast 
of  literature  faced  him — books  for  the  most  part  plainly 
bound,  though  here  and  there  a  richer  cover  caught  his 
eye.  Many  were  old  friends,  but  several  were  unfamiliar 
to  him — published  during  the  last  year,  no  doubt. 


82  THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

He  withdrew  one  of  the  latter  and  passed  his  finger 
absently  over  the  white  and  gold  of  the  thick  calf. 
Idly  turning  a  few  of  the  gilt-edged  leaves  and  glanc- 
ing at  the  contents,  he  moved  and  stirred  some  hot-house 
flowers  which  stood  in  a  vase  upon  the  bookcase.  The 
subtle  sweetness  of  their  scent  reached  him,  and  he 
leant  back  in  his  chair  again.  It  was  strange  how  the 
man  dawdled,  deliberately  postponing  the  finale  for 
which  he  longed.  But,  never  for  an  instant  wavering 
in  his  purpose,  Robert  Saul  feasted,  as  the  epicure 
feasts,  whose  greed  is  the  very  refinement  of  desire. 

Lady  Cecil  was  not  looking  at  him,  and  he  watched 
her  steadily,  saying  to  himself  that  it  was  good  to  be 
back  again  in  this  world  of  warmth  and  beauty.  For 
it  was  his  world — the  one  into  which  he  had  been  born, 
and  in  which  he  had  been  bred.  The  comfort  now  sur- 
rounding him  seemed,  as  it  were,  to  satisfy  that  part 
of  his  nature  which  he  had  tried  so  hard  to  starve  of 
late.  Rather  grimly,  he  realised  that  his  year  of  absti- 
nence at  St.  Anselm's  had,  in  this  respect,  been  wasted 
time ;  for  now  he  felt  that  he  was  more  at  home  in  this 
palace  of  delight  than  ever  he  had  been  under  that  al- 
most monastic  regime. 

Suddenly  he  rose ;  his  action  was  not  only  unpre- 
meditated; it  was  involuntary.  Indeed,  he  was  un- 
aware of  his  own  movements  until  he  found  himself 
standing  beside  Lady  Cecil  Gwynne.  He  had  never 
been  quite  so  near  to  her  before.  The  edge  of  his 
frock  coat  almost  brushed  against  her  shoulder  as  he, 
still  not  guiding  his  actions  by  conscious  thought,  put 
out  his  right  hand  and  closed  it  upon  the  rounded  edge 
of  the  mantelshelf.  Pressing  upon  it,  he  stood  up- 
right— a  little  stiffly — as  though  afraid  of  the  power 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE  83 

which  possessed  him.  Half  bewildered  by  the  force  of 
this  strong  thing  which  almost  mastered  him,  he  tried 
to  speak,  but  could  not.  The  girl's  face  slowly  flushed 
but  she  did  not  move.  She  could  not.  Both  realized 
that  this  was,  for  each,  a  supreme  moment,  and  the 
silence  became  charged  with  intense  emotion. 

At  last  Robert  Saul  spoke,  not  in  his  usual  voice  at 
all,  but  softly,  with  a  curious  distinctness. 

"  I  want,"  he  said,  "  to  speak  to  you." 

Bending  over  the  kneeling  girl,  he  took  her  hands 
in  his  and  slowly  lifted  her  until  she  stood  beside  him. 

"  Little  Lady  Cecil,"  he  whispered,  "  you  know,  of 
course,  why  I  have  come !  It  is  " — and  now  he  laughed 
a  little,  and  his  whole  face  brightened  with  the  thought 
behind  it — "  it  is — because  I  cannot  help  it." 

Lady  Cecil  looked  down  upon  her  hands  still  tightly 
held  within  the  man's  firm  clasp,  but  seemingly  she 
could  find  no  word  to  say. 

It  was  strange  to  her  to  hear  this  man  speak  so 
humbly.  His  very  assumption  of  helplessness  had  for 
her  a  charm.  She  instinctively  felt  that  such  a  posi- 
tion was  new  to  him,  and  that  for  one  who  knew  his  own 
power  as  did  Robert  Saul,  the  confession  which  he  had 
just  made  implied  a  surrender  as  rare  as  it  was  com- 
plete. 

Presently  Mr.  Saul  spoke  again.  "  Cecil,"  he  asked 
gravely,  "  what  day  will  you  marry  me  ?  " 

At  that  the  girl  drew  back.  But  now  she  found  that 
she  too  must  laugh  a  little.  For  what  had  she  here? 
Gentleness  truly,  but  some  assurance  also,  it  would 
seem! 

"  What  day,"  she  said,  "  will  I  marry  a  man  who 
has  not  even  asked  me  for  my  hand?  Why,  do  you 


84  THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

know,  .  .  .  the  question  seems  to  me  to  be  a  little 

premature,  and "  .  .  .  But  before  she  could  say 

more,  she  found  herself  closely  folded  within  masterful 
arms.  Tenderly,  but  with  a  touch  that  would  no  longer 
be  denied,  Robert  Saul  held  her  to  him ;  and  now  his 
face  was  grave  and  whiter  than  it  was  wont  to  be  and, 
when  next  he  spoke,  his  beautiful  voice  was  very  soft. 

"  My  dear,"  he  said,  "  I  doubt  not  that  I  am  a 
clumsy  wooer,  but,  does  it  matter,  little  one?  You 
know  that  we  have  always  loved  each  other;  does  any- 
thing matter,  except  that  soon  you  will  be  altogether 
mine  ?  " 

Then,  as  for  the  first  time  in  her  life,  a  man's  lips 
pressed  upon  her  own  and  thus  woke  to  a  tremulous 
sense  of  life  that  which  she  did  not  know  her  nature 
held  within  itself,  Lady  Cecil  thanked  God  that  years 
before  the  courage  had  been  hers  to  turn  away  from 
the  unhallowed  embrace  which  had  then  awaited  her 
upon  the  threshold  of  her  early  womanhood.  Even 
now,  half  dismayed  at  the  strength  of  this  new  joy, 
which  yet  carried  in  its  train  a  sense  of  weakness,  she 
withdrew  herself  from  the  arms  that  sought  to  hold 
her  closer. 

Robert  Saul,  knowing  her  pride  and  understanding 
better  than  did  the  girl  herself  the  flush  upon  her 
cheek  and  the  deepening  of  the  shadow  in  her  eyes, 
let  her  go.  With  a  patience  which  surprised  himself 
he  asked  no  more  of  the  present.  Growing  strangely 
wise  by  reason  of  the  love  he  bore  her,  he  told  himself 
that  to  ask  more  now  would  be  to  risk  the  full  ripening 
of  that  rich  harvest  which  lay  out-stretched  in  golden 
thought  before  him ;  and  as  he  looked  at  the  sweet  face 
so  near  to  him,  he  knew  that  he  loved  }ier  the  better  for 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE  85 

her  proud  reserve.  Then,  for  the  space  of  one  heart- 
beat he  held  his  breath  as  he  mentally  drank  in  a  fore- 
taste of  their  future  life  together — a  life  filled  to  the 
full  with  that  living  love  which,  he  told  himself,  can 
only  come  to  those  who  give,  each  to  the  other,  the 
first-fruits  of  their  man-and-womanhood. 

For  an  hour  and  more  they  were  undisturbed,  and 
it  seemed  that  there  was  not  much  to  say.  Both  were 
content  to  rest  awhile  within  the  atmosphere  of  calm 
and  quiet  sympathy  with  which  their  mutual  love  sur- 
rounded them. 

That  night  all  Robert  Saul's  doubts  were  laid  to 
rest,  and  the  past  year  dropped  out  of  his  thought  and 
was  more  completely  forgotten  than  are  the  dead  above 
whose  head  the  living  walk.  For  man  can  only  love 
one  thing  supremely  at  the  time,  and  for  Robert  Saul 
a  wonderful  new  life  had  now  opened  up,  and  he  loved 
it:  moreover  he  knew  that  he  loved  it,  as  he  never  had 
loved  that  other  life  which  now  seemed  to  have  no  more 
reality  than  a  dream  belonging  to  the  distant  past. 


CHAPTER    IX 
DAY  DREAMS 

The  outward  symbols  disappear 
From  him  whose  inward  sight  is  clear, 

And  small  must  be  the  choice  of  days 
To  him  who  fills  them  all  with  praise ! 

— Whittitr. 

THE  months  that  followed  the  announcement  of  their 
engagement  were  the  happiest  that  either  Lady  Cecil 
Gwynne  or  Mr.  Saul  had  ever  known.  They  told  each 
other  that  they  had  never  anticipated  such  joy ;  and  the 
watching  world  exclaimed  aside,  that  it  was  strange 
indeed  that  two  such  suitable  people  should  have  de- 
cided to  marry  one  another.  Absolutely  nothing  oc- 
curred to  mar  the  brightness  of  the  early  days  of  their 
courtship,  during  which  the  winter  snows  fled  and 
nature  donned  her  petticoats  of  green. 

The  Earl  of  Brecon  was  unaffectedly  glad  at  the 
prospect  of  being  relieved  of  the  care  of  his  young 
sister,  for  he  was  thus  quite  free  to  spend  long  hours 
alone  with  his  books.  He  was  also  genuinely  pleased 
that  she  should  have  elected  to  marry  a  man  so  much 
after  his  own  heart — not  that  he  and  Robert  Saul  had 
natures  at  all  akin,  but  both  men  were  educated  above 
the  common,  and  both  were  deeply  religious. 

For  years  the  Earl  had  been  upon  the  point  of  join- 
ing the  Church  of  Rome.  But  only  Mr.  Saul  and  one 
other — a  priest  whose  influence  had  been  closely  inter- 

86 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE  87 

woven  with  the  young  nobleman's  Oxford  career — knew 
this.  For.  Lord  Brecon's  nature  was  so  sensitive,  and 
his  religion  was  to  him  of  such  vital  importance,  that 
he  at  all  times  preferred  to  listen  to  the  views  of  others 
upon  this  sacred  subject,  rather  than  to  inform  them  of 
his  own. 

He  had  not  yet  gone  over  to  Rome,  chiefly  because 
the  ceremonial  which  he  found  among  the  extreme 
High  Churchmen  of  his  time  had,  up  to  the  present, 
seemed  to  satisfy  the  hunger  within  him.  And  yet  he 
was  not  altogether  content.  While  listening  to  the 
beautiful  music  of  the  choir  or  to  some  young 
chorister's  thrilling  soprano,  he  thought  himself  to  be 
at  rest;  content  he  also  seemed  to  feel,  when  returning 
from  confessional.  It  was  certainly  an  immense  relief 
to  cast  the  burden  of  his  sins  into  the  priestly  ear  and 
to  start  once  more  upon  life's  journey  free  and  unfet- 
tered by  the  past.  But  these  times  of  comfortable 
irresponsibility  were  apt  to  be  followed  by  periods  of 
severe  reaction  which,  in  their  turn,  left  the  man  sad 
and  sore  perplexed.  But  he  never  for  a  moment 
doubted  that  the  path  which  he  followed  would  in  time 
lead  him  to  the  perfect  day;  and  here  it  was  that  his 
views  and  those  of  Mr.  Saul  were  identical.  The 
latter's  passionate  nature,  however,  made  him  more 
actively  intolerant  than  Lord  Brecon  would  ever  be  of 
every  form  of  worship  which  departed  from  the  ritual 
which  he  deemed  essential  to  salvation.  Thus,  of  the 
two  men  Robert  Saul  was  certain  to  take  things  more 
hardly,  should  one  he  cared  for  hold  views  opposed  to 
his  own  upon  this  most  important  matter. 

The  Earl  of  Brecon  held  a  recognised  place  among 
the  Churchmen  of  the  day,  and  this  brought  him  into 


88  THE     SEAMLESS    ROBE 

touch  with  those  in  authority  in  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land, which,  as  an  organisation,  has  its  social  and  po- 
litical side,  as  well  as  its  religious  aspect;  and  it  had 
been  a  great  pleasure  to  him  to  use  the  not  inconsid- 
erable interest  which  his  position  gave  him,  to  secure 
for  his  prospective  brother-in-law  the  charge  of  one  of 
the  most  sought  after  parishes  in  London. 

The  reputation  which  Mr.  Saul  now  rapidly  ac- 
quired as  a  great  preacher  was  enhanced  by  his  vigor- 
ous personality,  and  further  by  the  charm  of  his 
beautifully  modulated  voice.  The  congregation  at  St. 
Peter's  was  of  precisely  the  right  composition  to  en- 
joy his  cultured  sermons.  His  delivery  was  the  per- 
fection of  scholarly  ability,  and  the  large  church  was 
soon  filled,  Sunday  after  Sunday,  with  the  most  fas- 
tidious audience  possible.  Critical  as  his  congrega- 
tion was,  his  sermons  were  described  as  an  intellectual 
feast;  and  the  beautiful  music,  which  Mr.  Saul  took 
care  should  be  perfectly  rendered,  helped  to  draw  an 
educated  and  fashionable  audience  from  far  and  near. 
Churchmen  predicted  a  great  future  for  the  young 
clergyman,  who  possessed  the  unusual  combination  of 
great  gifts  and  a  fearless  energy.  It  was  reported,  and 
believed  by  many,  that  shortly  after  his  induction  Mr. 
Saul  had  been  told  that  a  certain  ceremony,  which 
he  had  inaugurated  at  St.  Peter's,  must  be  dropped. 
He  had,  report  declared,  politely  but  firmly  refused 
to  abate  one  jot  or  one  tittle  of  the  ritual,  which  he 
considered  a  means  of  grace  and  necessary  to  all  who 
would  walk  in  the  straight  and  narrow  way ;  and  he  had 
won  his  point.  Whether  by  the  indomitable  courage 
of  his  mental  attitude  or  by  his  undoubted  charm  of 
manner,  it  matters  not — he  remained  Vicar  of  St. 


89 

Peter's  and  continued  to  devote  himself,  heart  and 
soul,  to  the  regeneration  of  the  large  West  End 
parish. 

It  seemed  to  Mr.  Saul,  that  in  winning  such  an  one  as 
Cecil  for  his  wife,  he  had  obtained  the  one  thing  need- 
ful to  the  rounding  of  his  lot.  A  graceful  hostess, 
gifted  with  a  delicate  tact,  Lady  Cecil  would  make  an 
ideal  wife  for  a  clergyman  already  holding  a  conspicu- 
ous position  in  the  Church  and  who  was  certain  to  rise 
to  higher  preferment. 

For  the  present  Cecil  Gwynne  was  content — as  were 
most  men  and  women  who  fell  under  Robert  Saul's 
magnetic  influence — to  follow,  without  comment  or 
question,  wherever  he  should  point  the  way.  The  girl 
believed  herself  to  be  altogether  at  rest  in  his  love. 
Her  hitherto  lonely  life  seemed  intolerable  when  she 
compared  it  with  the  sunny  days  of  the  happy  com- 
panionship that  she  now  enjoyed  in  the  society  of 
her  lover.  Much  of  her  shy  reserve  melted  under  the 
warmth  of  Robert's  tender  care ;  and  at  times  Cecil 
Gwynne  seemed  to  him  to  be  so  altogether  desirable, 
that  it  was  with  difficulty  that  he  found  patience  to 
wait  the  passing  of  the  early  spring,  for  he  fully 
realised  that  her  nature  held  depths  which  he  had  not 
yet  been  permitted  to  sound,  and  he  was  eager  to 
sound  them.  He  understood,  however,  that  not  until 
they  were  man  and  wife  would  this  beautiful  flower 
unfold  all  its  petals  and  display  the  full  treasure  that 
her  heart  contained.  In  his  calm  moments  he  loved 
her  the  better,  in  that  she  gave  him  always  less  than 
he  desired,  but  at  other  times  his  passionate  longing 
to  be  always  beside  her  made  the  hours  spent  apart 
from  her  seem  long  and  altogether  dark. 


90  THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

Of  the  two  Lady  Cecil  was  the  more  completely 
happy  at  this  period.  The  present  was  full  enough 
of  joy  for  her.  She  had  unbounded  trust  in  the 
thoughtful  care  which  seemed  to  anticipate  her  every 
wish,  and  her  admiration  for  Robert  Saul  daily  in- 
creased as  she  watched  his  busy  life.  She  realised 
clearly  that  his  courageous  judgment  and  cultured 
thought  were  rapidly  placing  him  in  the  first  rank 
among  the  foremost  men  of  his  day;  and  that  he 
stood  upon  the  threshold  of  a  great  career.  She  would 
help  him  to  make  that  career  truly  great!  Her  own 
high  social  standing  naturally  placed  her  far  above 
any  vulgar  personal  ambition,  but  she  was  neverthe- 
less very  eager  to  see  her  lover  rise  to  a  position  of 
eminence  in  the  Church.  Robert  must  be  the  best 
man  of  his  day — the  cleverest,  the  most  learned,  and 
the  most  good. 

Her  ideal  was  high,  and  Robert  Saul  was  much  -fur- 
ther from  the  manifestation  thereof  than  she  realised 
at  that  time.  Later,  she  saw  all  things  more  clearly, 
and  in  those  "  latter  days  "  she  looked  back  at  this 
ideal  and  instantly  dethroned  it,  bowing  in  mute  obe- 
dience before  that  standard  of  infinite  perfection  raised 
on  high  by  the  meekest  man  on  earth — a  standard 
unto  which  none  have  yet  attained,  chiefly  because  all 
have  deemed  it  impossible  really  to  follow  where  he 
has  led.  .  .  .  All?  nay!  One  to  whom  a  world's 
gratitude  is  due,  now  points  to  that  standard  which 
still  waves  on  high,  unsullied  throughout  the  centuries ; 
and  pointing,  she  has  reminded  a  suffering  world  that 
nearly  two  thousand  years  ago  these  emphatic  words 
were  uttered  by  him  of  whom  we  read,  that  his  word 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE  91 

shall  never  pass  away  until  fulfilled ;  "  Be  ye  there- 
fore perfect,  even  as  your  Father  which  is  in  Heaven 
is  perfect ;  "  and  again,  "  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto 
you,  he  that  believeth  on  me,  the  works  that  I  do  shall 
he  do  also;  and  greater  works  than  these  shall  he  do; 
because  I  go  unto  my  Father." 

But  how  many  are  there  who  really  believe  these 
words?  How  many  are  there  who  even  attempt  to 
prove  their  faith  by  their  works?  Some  few  there  are 
who  seek  to  do  the  Master's  work  in  the  manner  of  his 
appointing.  Some  few  there  are  who  know  that  the 
Nazarene  was  the  practical  Way-shower  and  no  mere 
idealist.  And  their  number  and  their  might  increase 
daily  in  spite  of  Church  and  State — in  spite  of  that 
merely  numerical  majority,  which  still  looks  askance 
at  the  healing  Christ,  who  comes  as  of  yore  offering 
to  humanity  full  salvation  from  sin,  disease  and  death. 

Oh,  hungry,  yet  blind  of  heart!  Wilt  thou  not 
pause  awhile  and  heed  the  pathos  of  that  cry ;  "  O 
Jerusalem !  Jerusalem !  "  Wilt  thou  not  seat  thee  for 
a  silent  moment  at  the  feet  of  Jesus  and  learn  of  the 
Nazarene?  But  first,  must  thou  bow  thy  proud  head; 
first,  must  thou  bend  thy  stiffened  knee  and  smite 
upon  thy  haughty  breast.  Nay,  more! — and  harder 
still — thou  must  descend  from  thy  high  estate  and 
cast  aside  thy  broad  phylacteries.  Thus  only  canst 
thou  lift  thy  heart  to  God  and  send  forth  the  humble 
cry,  "  Lord,  that  I  may  receive  my  sight."  Then 
shalt  thou  note  the  holy  joy  upon  the  elder  Brother's 
face;  then  shalt  thou  feel  the  healing  love  flow  from 
his  heart ;  then  shalt  thou  receive  the  Christly  benedic- 


92  THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

tion,  "  Thy  faith  hath  made  thee  whole ;  Go  in  peace." 
And  thus  shalt  thou  arise  refreshed  and  go  forth  to 
do  the  Master's  work,  more  mighty  in  thy  meekness 
than  ever  in  thy  state — "  not  unclothed,  but  clothed 
upon  " — the  joy  of  heaven  within  thine  eyes,  and  the 
calm  of  God  upon  thy  breast. 


CHAPTER   X 

PARTIAL  ECLIPSE 

God  hath  made  man  upright;  but  they  have  sought  out 
many  inventions. 

— Ecclesiastes. 

IT  was  now  early  May,  and  their  wedding-day  was  very 
near  at  hand.  Lady  Cecil  Gwynne  was  in  Scotland 
and  wished  to  be  quietly  married  from  her  old  northern 
home;  for  she  not  unnaturally  shrank  from  the  pub- 
licity of  a  large  social  function.  Mr.  Saul  was  content 
either  way,  so  long  as  he  might  speedily  claim  her 
altogether  for  his  own.  He  had  been  surprised  to  find 
of  late  that  it  was  in  him  to  be  jealous.  Indeed,  his 
masterful  nature  had  rebelled  many  times  of  late 
when,  standing  by,  he  had  watched  his  fiancee  resting 
upon  the  arm  of  some  one  or  other  of  the  smart  men 
of  her  circle,  while  floating  through  the  mazes  of  a 
waltz.  Mr.  Saul  had  never  danced,  and  would  not 
have  considered  it  possible  for  a  man  of  his  calling  to 
do  so  with  dignity.  He  told  himself  that,  once  Cecil 
was  his  wife,  she  must  do  as  he  wished  in  all  such 
matters.  He  disliked  to  see  married  women  dancing 
at  any  time,  and  from  his  point  of  view  such  a  thing 
was  out  of  the  question  for  a  clergyman's  wife.  But 
meanwhile,  he  was  forced  to  look  calmly  on,  though  in 
his  heart  he  envied  the  men  who  waltzed  with  the 
woman  whom  he  passionately  loved. 

93 


94  THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

More  than  once  he  asked  himself,  in  the  bitterness 
of  his  unreasoning  jealousy,  whether  Cecil  really  did 
love  him,  at  any  rate,  as  he  counted  loving?  She 
seemed  so  perfectly  happy  when  with  others  of  her 
set.  Was  it  likely  that  she  should  be  able  to  sur- 
render herself  utterly  to  her  husband?  But  nothing 
less  than  complete  surrender  would  satisfy  Robert  Saul. 
Cecil  Gwynne  must  be  his,  and  his  entirely — his  to 
love  and  cherish,  but  his  also  to  command. 

To-day,  however,  Mr.  Saul  put  all  such  thoughts 
aside,  for  he  was  on  his  way  to  see  Cecil  for  the  last 
time  before  their  marriage.  As  the  Scotch  express 
whirled  on  upon  its  northern  journey,  he  congratulated 
himself  upon  being  the  only  occupant  of  the  comforta- 
ble first-class  carriage  in  which  he  travelled,  for  he 
wished  to  be  alone. 

The  sweet  spring  sunshine  poured  in  through  the 
open  windows  and  filled  the  air  with  light;  bright  and 
tender  greens  clothed  the  landscape  with  a  beauty  full 
of  promise;  soft  yellows  and  delicate  purples  caught 
his  eye,  as  the  train  rocked  onward,  for  in  this  joyous 
month  of  May  Nature  spreads  her  flowery  carpet  upon 
bank  and  woodland  floor.  Primroses  and  wild  hya- 
cinths rivalled  each  other  in  their  new-born  loveliness, 
and  the  young  ferns  pushed  their  curled  fronds  up- 
wards through  their  mossy  coverlet,  as  though  to  woo 
Spring's  warm  embrace,  as  it  whispered  of  the  sunny 
days  to  come.  Upon  each  hedgerow  was  a  mantle 
of  bright  emerald,  while  below  him  and  upon  either 
side,  as  they  slackened  speed  and  breasted  a  steep 
incline,  was  a  cloudy  sea  of  apple  blossom — each  soft 
white  mass  kissed  into  warmth  by  the  sunset  flush  of 
its  outer  petals.  And  now  they  passed  a  meadow  full 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE  95 

of  young  life — tiny  lambs  side  by  side  with  their  sober 
mothers — one  independent  baby  away  there  by  itself,  a 
sleepy  ball  of  softest  white. 

Mr.  Saul  never  forgot  that  journey.  For  that  short 
space  of  time  he  was  more  at  peace  than  ever  before 
in  his  turbulent  life — turbulent,  because  he  made  it 
so.  He  lived  hard  and  knew  no  other  way  of  living. 
.That  to  which  Robert  Saul  once  put  his  will  was 
always  carried  through  in  less  time,  and  better,  than 
was  the  case  with  other  men.  He  undertook  nothing 
lightly,  but  once  his  mind  was  made  up,  none  had 
ever  known  him  to  unmake  it — no  man,  at  least.  In 
the  single  instance  of  his  courtship  of  Lady  Cecil 
Gwynne,  he  knew  that  a  woman's  sweet  attraction  had 
kept  him  wavering  between  two  opinions,  until  actually 
he,  of  all  men,  had  let  "  I  dare  not "  wait  upon  "  I 
would."  But  in  the  end  the  charm  of  her  love  had 
drawn  him  irrevocably  to  her  side,  and  finally  his 
capitulation  had  been  complete. 

Now  a  great  stillness  possessed  the  man.  His  heart 
was  overfull  of  gratitude,  and  he  murmured  a  suppli- 
cating prayer  that  he  might  prove  worthy  of  the 
wealth,  the  honour,  and — the  purest  joy  of  all — the 
love,  which  now  filled  his  life  to  overflowing.  The  cup 
was  sweet  to  his  thirsting  lips  and  he  drank  and  drank 
again.  With  eyes  half  closed  and  lips  whispering  the 
joy  which  he  could  not  altogether  hold  in  leash,  his 
vivid  thought  flashed  across  the  intervening  days,  and 
he  seemed  to  hold  his  newly-wedded  wife  within  his 
arms.  Then  a  deep  reverence  for  her  spotless  maiden- 
hood fell  upon  his  heart  and  bade  his  passionate 
thought  be  still.  "Dear  God,"  he  breathed,  "that 
a  thing  so  white  and  pure  should  be  my  own ! " 


96  THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

Very  quiet  he  sat,  as  the  day  passed  on  to  eventide 
and  lost  its  beauty  in  the  darkness  of  the  night. 

Later,  he  roused  himself  and  thus  broke  the  sweet 
chain  of  thought  which  bound  his  limbs  and  held  them 
motionless.  For  soon  his  journey  would  be  ended, 
and  then — Cecil's  hand  would  rest  within  his  own, 
and  Cecil's  soft  caress  would  fall  upon  his  hungering 
lips! 

He  was  surprised,  and  very  pleased  also,  to  see  Lord 
Brecon  at  the  station,  for  it  was  late,  and  he  had 
not  expected  that  the  Earl  would  leave  his  library  after 
dinner;  but  Lord  Brecon's  first  words  shocked  him 
into  a  complete  coldness. 

"  Robert,  I  am  glad  that  you  have  come !  I  must 
have  wired  for  you  otherwise ! " 

"What  do  you  mean?"  Mr.  Saul  asked  sternly, 
through  suddenly  straightened  lips.  But  already  he 
seemed  to  guess  the  worst,  for  he  drew  his  tall  form 
up  stiffly  and  braced  himself  as  though  to  battle  with 
a  storm. 

"  Don't  be  alarmed,"  Lord  Brecon  spoke  reassur- 
ingly, but  he  looked  worried  and  indeed  ill.  "  There 
has  been  an  accident." 

Upon  the  instant  he  found  his  arm  grasped  by  an 
iron  hand  and  himself  flung  round,  till  he  faced  the 
stricken  man  who  towered  above  him. 

"  Be  quick ; "  and  Robert  held  the  Earl  with  quiet 
strength. 

Though  he  scarcely  reached  above  his  friend's  shoul- 
der, Lord  Brecon  lowered  his  eyes,  for  he  hated  the 
task  before  him.  That  it  must,  however,  be  at  once 
performed,  he  knew,  so  he  told  Mr.  Saul,  as  kindly 
and  briefly  as  he  could,  that  his  sister's  horses  had 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE  97 

bolted  that  afternoon  and,  upsetting  the  carriage,  had 
thrown  her  heavily  against  a  stone  wall.  She  was 
still  unconscious,  but  the  local  doctors  were  with  her 
and  Mr.  Huntly,  a  specialist,  had  been  wired  for  and 
would  doubtless  leave  London  by  the  night  mail. 

Robert  never  spoke  through  all  that  long  drive 
home.  He  sat  as  though  carved  in  stone,  his  elbows 
pressed  upon  his  knees,  and  his  grand  head  buried  in 
his  hands.  Lord  Brecon  was  too  kind — and  too  wise 
also — to  disturb  him,  and  indeed  both  men  were  occu- 
pied in  silently  praying  for  the  one  life  to  be  spared. 
Robert  prayed  as  he  never  had  prayed  before ;  prayed 
that,  if  a  life  must  needs  go  out,  it  might  be  his  own 
and  not  that  of  the  woman  for  whom  he  would,  he 
told  his  God,  willingly  die  a  thousand  deaths. 

At  last  the  motor  had  passed  the  outer  gates.  A 
moment  later  it  crossed  an  old  drawbridge  and  drew 
up  in  front  of  the  principal  entrance  to  the  Castle. 
Upon  the  top  of  a  somewhat  narrow  flight  of  steps, 
and  within  the  doorway,  stood  a  woman.  Her  slight, 
almost  childish  figure  was  sharply  silhouetted  by  the 
light  from  an  oil  lamp  which  stood  upon  a  rough  stone 
shelf  in  the  outer  hall.  Both  men  sprang  from  the 
car,  and  asked  the  same  question  as  they  alighted. 

"  Still  unconscious ; "  was  the  reply,  "  and  the  doc- 
tors wish  her  to  be  kept  very  quiet,  so  I  have  left 
her  with  the  nurse." 

Let  us  look  for  a  moment  at  the  woman  who  now 
gave  what  poor  encouragement  she  could  to  the  two 
anxious  men,  as  they  eagerly  questioned  her.  A  very 
small  and  dainty  person  was  Miss  Beresford.  With 
a  voice  always  gentle  and  a  manner  protestingly  quiet, 
she  was  called  by  many  affected.  Half  an  hour's 


98  THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

real  conversation  with  her  was  usually  enough,  how- 
ever, to  dispel  this  impression  and  to  convey  to  the 
stranger  that  which  her  friends  understood  perfectly, 
namely,  that  here  was  one  of  the  kindest  and  truest 
natures  in  the  world. 

Miss  Beresford  had  watched  tenderly  over  Lord 
Brecon's  childhood  and  over  that  of  his  sister,  and 
had  done  her*  best  to  supply  their  mother's  place. 
Yet  both  her  nephew  and  Cecil  had,  while  loving  and 
respecting  her  for  her  unselfish  devotion  to  their  domes- 
tic interests,  grown  up  to  regard  her  as  something 
needing  care  and  protection.  Now,  however,  the  little 
woman's  love  for  her  niece  lent  her  a  fictitious  strength 
of  both  mind  and  body.  With  an  apparent  calmness, 
which  surprised  herself  and  all  the  household,  she 
immediately  constituted  herself  head  nurse;  nor  did 
she  relinquish  the  position,  until  her  own  health  failed 
under  the  strain  of  the  anxious  days  and  long  sleepless 
nights  which  followed  Cecil's  accident. 

During  this  period  of  intense  anxiety,  the  Earl 
took  many  lonely  rides  and  hardly  read  a  page  of  the 
new  book  which  Mr.  Saul  had  brought  down  for  him 
and  for  which  he  had  eagerly  longed.  He  was  pass- 
ing through  a  time  of  great  distress  of  mind;  for  he 
was  unconsciously  testing  his  religion  and,  hourly, 
he  found  it  wanting.  Not  even  to  Robert  Saul  would 
he  have  owned  that  it  had  utterly  failed  him.  Xord 
Brecon  believed  his  sister  Cecil  to  be  dying,  and  he 
tortured  himself  by  fears  and  doubts  as  to  her  future 
state,  for  everything  seemed  uncertain  and  vague  in 
the  extreme.  How  was  it  that  he  could  do  no  more 
than  conjecture  about  existence  beyond  the  grave? 
Often  this  man,  who  had  a  strain  of  sadness  in  his 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE  99 

nature  and  was  sometimes  deeply  depressed,  was  wearied 
by  his  unsatisfied  life  and  told  himself  that  death, 
when  it  should  come  to  him,  would  come  as  a  friend. 
But  seeing  it  approach  one  dear  to  him,  Lord  Brecon 
suddenly  asked  himself,  of  what  avail  would  be  the 
laying  aside  of  this  mortal  coil?  Unexpectedly,  a 
great  question  arose  in  his  mind  and  haunted  him. 
Suppose  that,  after  all,  he  and  Cecil,  and  indeed  all 
those  who  thought  as  they  did,  should  be  mistaken? 
Until  lately  he  had  felt  sure  that  his  ethical  views  were 
right,  but  he  now  asked  himself  what  proof  had  he  to 
substantiate  these  views  ? 

The  Earl  began  to  wish  that  his  religion  was  founded 
upon  something  more  reasonable,  more  tangible,  than 
the  theories  of  men.  Something  within  him  rose  up 
in  strong  rebellion,  dissatisfied  with  a  faith  so  blind 
as  his.  Suddenly  affrighted,  he  asked  himself  why  he 
accepted  as  truth  certain  dogmas  of  this  faith.  Was 
it  not,  after  all,  simply  because  he  had  been  taught 
in  his  childhood  to  accept  them  blindly?  Of  late  years 
certain  contradictions  had  faced  him.  But  he  was 
aware  that  these  same  contradictions  had  vexed  many 
others,  wiser  than  himself,  and  had  been  put  aside 
by  them  as  mysteries  incomprehensible  to  man.  Dis- 
contented that  it  should  be  so,  but  crushed  into  help- 
lessness by  the  thought  of  a  world's  failure  to  under- 
stand its  God,  he  had  endeavoured,  in  his  turn,  to  put 
them  aside  unsolved.  Now,  however,  these  perplexing 
points  marshalled  themselves  before  his  mental  vision, 
each  demanding  his  acceptance,  but  each  refusing  to 
join  hands  with  its  neighbour,  for  not  even  a  world's 
apathy  can  reconcile  the  irreconcilable. 

Wearily   he   sought  a   sorry   refuge  in   the   almost 


100         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

universally  accepted  dictum,  that  it  was  never  intended 
that  man  should  penetrate  the  mysteries  of  divine 
metaphysics;  rather  must  he  be  content  to  wait  until 
death  should  solve  the  problem  of  being. 

But  Lord  Brecon,  though  he  argued  thus,  was  aware 
of  a  sense  of  defeat.  He  did  not  say,  even  to  himself, 
that  he  had  merely  brushed  aside  the  inevitable  for 
a  time,  but  he  realised  distinctly  that,  in  the  hour  of 
his  need,  he  had  gone  for  shelter  and  support  to  that 
which  he  had  believed  to  be  a  rock,  only  to  find  that 
it  failed  him  utterly,  evading  him  as  some  elusive 
shadow  might  have  done.  Built  of  nothing  more  sub- 
stantial than  traditional  sentiment,  nurtured  only 
by  man-made  theories  and  human  doctrines,  his  reli- 
gion could  not  stand  the  test  of  a  man's  great  need. 
It  had  for  its  foundation  a  merely  human  conception — • 
a  thing  of  form  and  ceremony — never  instituted  by  the 
Way-shower,  Jesus  the  Christ. 

It  was  an  indication  of  the  fact  that  no  real  unity  of 
religious  thought  existed  between  them,  that  Mr.  Saul 
and  Lord  Brecon  felt  quite  unable  to  help  each  other 
at  this  period,  though  each  desired  to  do  so.  Theo- 
logically, their  creed  was  the  same ;  practically,  each 
was  beset  by  troubled  thought  of  which  he  felt  he 
could  speak  to  no  one,  for  who  would  understand? 
Robert  Saul  spent  long  hours  in  his  room,  sitting  still 
and  silent,  facing  the  probability  of  a  future  without 
Cecil  by  his  side.  So  entirely  had  she  become  part 
of  his  inner  life,  that  more  than  once  he  rose  suddenly 
from  his  chair,  fiercely  declaring  aloud  that  she  should 
not  die.  It  was  impossible.  They  were  made  for  each 
other !  The  one  was  incomplete,  he  told  himself,  with- 
out the  other. 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         101 

Then  one  morning  Lord  Brecon,  accompanied  by  his 
aunt,  called  Mr.  Saul  into  the  library.  Miss  Beres- 
ford's  plain  little  face  was  wreathed  with  tremulous 
smiles. 

"  The  doctors,"  she  said,  "  have  just  left  .  .  . 
and  .  .  .  and  .  .  .  Cecil  will  live." 

She  had  not  meant  to  tell  him  thus  suddenly,  but 
she  was  overdone  and  quite  hysterical. 

Eleanor  Beresford  was  the  kindest  of  women,  and 
had  scarcely  left  her  niece's  room  of  late,  but  now  that 
the  worst  was  over,  she  completely  broke  down  and 
had  to  be  gradually  nursed  back  to  health  and  calm- 
ness. She  had  risen  to  the  occasion  nobly,  but  only 
at  the  expense  of  her  own  health;  and  during  the 
weeks  of  prostration  which  followed,  Mr.  Saul  uncon- 
sciously voiced  a  world's  perplexity  when  he  said  to 
Lord  Brecon,  "  How  strange  it  seems  that  people 
should  suffer  for  doing  their  duty  ?  "  Then  he  added, 
a  little  uneasily,  and  half  to  himself ;  "  .  .  .  it  is, 
of  course,  one  of  the  many  things  which  we  shall 
understand  some  day." 


TOTAL  ECLIPSE 

Upon  the  further  side  of  every  cloud 

The  sun  is  shining; 
So  turn  thy  darkest  clouds  about 

And  view  their  silver  lining. 

— Anon. 

AND  now  for  a  time  Lady  Cecil  made  good  progress, 
and  Mr.  Saul,  who  was  obliged  to  return  to  his  parish, 
left  her  with  a  rapidly  growing  hope  that  very  soon  he 
would  be  able  to  take  her  away  as  his  wife  for  a  quiet 
change.  He  decided  that  they  would  go  somewhere, 
quite  removed  from  the  scene  of  her  accident  and  subse- 
quent illness.  Already  plans  were  being  discussed,  and 
it  was  settled  that  he  should  return  to  Invergach  in  a 
fortnight  to  make  definite  arrangements  for  the 
journey. 

During  that  fortnight  Robert  was  very  busy  set- 
ting his  house  in  order  and  preparing  for  his  bride. 
Every  moment  that  he  could  spare  from  his  parish 
duties  he  devoted  to  the  careful  arrangement  of  her 
rooms.  Both  bedroom  and  boudoir  must  have  a  sunny 
aspect,  as  the  doctors  considered  warmth  of  the  ut- 
most importance.  This  could  only  be  obtained  by  car- 
rying out  various  structural  alterations  in  the  house, 
for  a  window  must  be  opened  to  the  west  and  a  door- 
way cut  between  the  two  rooms. 

This  was  done;  and  now  Mr.  Saul  was  taking  a 
last  look  round  before  starting  for  the  North.  He  was 

109 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE          103 

almost  satisfied.  That  Ilkley  couch  was  light  and 
easily  moved  about  at  the  whim  of  an  invalid,  and, 
please  God,  it  would  not  be  needed  long.  Once  he 
could  call  Cecil  his  wife,  and  be  free  to  watch  over 
her  from  morning  till  night,  she  would  soon  be  her 
bright  strong  self  again.  He  wished  that  her  letters 
told  him  more  about  her  health — she  scarcely  referred 
to  it  when  writing — but  of  course  no  news  was  good 
news,  and  to-morrow  he  would  see  for  himself  how 
much  strength  she  had  gained  during  these  two  weeks. 

But  the  following  evening,  when  he  sat  by  Lady 
Cecil's  side  and  told  her  of  all  that  he  had  done  to 
make  their  future  home  bright  and  acceptable  to  her, 
he  gradually  became  aware  that  she  was  scarcely  an- 
swering his  joyous  talk.  He  now  observed  that  her 
face  had  grown  still  and  white.  She  had  not,  he  knew, 
come  down  until  his  arrival  just  before  dinner,  and 
yet  already  she  seemed  listless  and  weary.  Anxiously 
he  asked  if  he  could  do  anything  for  her,  or  would 
she  like  him  to  leave  her  for  a  time,  in  order  that  she 
might  rest? 

"  Robert,"  Cecil  Gwynne  spoke  gravely,  "  you  do 
not  know  that  Mr.  Huntly  came  down  again  yesterday. 
Listen,  dear,"  and  she  placed  her  hand  on  his,  "  I 
would  not  write  this,  especially  as  you  were  coming 
to-day.  It  seemed  better  to  tell  you  myself."  But 
she  did  not  tell  him ;  instead,  her  face  grew  whiter  and 
more  stern  than  he  had  ever  seen  it. 

"What  have  you  to  tell  me?"  Robert  asked,  and 
his  voice  was  a  little  hushed. 

For  a  moment  Cecil  could  not  answer,  her  face  was 
pitiful  in  its  pain,  and  her  hand  held  her  lover's  more 
tightly  than  she  knew. 


104         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

At  last  she  spoke.  "  My  darling,  don't  you  under- 
stand? ...  I  can  never  marry  you." 

**  You  shall  marry  me,  I  swear  it,"  and  Robert  Saul 
knelt  by  her  side  and,  with  a  touch  of  perfect  tender- 
ness, lifted  her  until  she  rested  upon  his  arms.  "  I 
do  not  care,"  he  added  impetuously,  "  what  twenty 
doctors  say.  We  will  be  married  at  once,  and  I  will 
nurse  you  back  to  health  so  quickly,  dear,  once  I  can 
be  always  with  you  to  guard  you  all  day  long." 

But  Cecil  did  not  answer  his  passionate  protest, 
and  seeing  that  she  could  not  command  her  voice,  nor 
keep  back  the  sobs  which  now  shook  her  weakened 
frame,  Robert  raised  her  in  his  arms  and  carried  her 
to  her  room.  His  magnificent  strength  made  light 
of  the  burden,  and  he  moved  easily  up  the  stairs,  not 
pausing  until  he  gently  rested  her  upon  her  couch. 
There  he  bade  her  good-night  and  left  her  in  her  aunt's 
watchful  care. 

It  was  long  before  he  himself  retired,  and,  when  he 
did  at  last  seek  his  bed,  sleep  was  still  far  from  him; 
nor  did  he  obtain  more  than  a  few  hours'  broken  rest, 
from  which  he  awoke  quite  unrefreshed. 

On  the  morrow,  Lady  Cecil  was  too  ill  to  leave  her 
room,  and,  after  a  long  hour's  talk  with  her  brother, 
Robert  Saul  was  obliged  to  admit  that  marriage  was 
for  Cecil  Gwynne  a  present  impossibility. 

"  The  doctors,"  Lord  Brecon  explained  to  him, 
"  had  been  quite  mistaken  in  their  first  diagnosis  of 
the  case.  They  had  now  discovered  further  injury, 
which  rendered  all  hope  of  a  perfect  recovery  futile; 
still  they  thought  that,  with  care  and  by  always  win- 
tering in  a  warm  climate,  she  might  live  for  many 
years," 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

"Will  she  suffer?"  Robert  asked  abruptly. 

Lord  Brecon  turned  to  the  window,  and  avoided  his 
companion's  eye. 

"  Yes,"  he  answered  briefly. 

"Not  always!  you  cannot  mean  that?"  Robert's 
protest  was  hot  and  vehement. 

"  Always,  I  am  afraid ;  "  the  Earl  replied,  "  though 
naturally,  we  shall  take  all  possible  precautions.  We 
shall  move  her  to  the  South  of  France  before  the 
damp  autumn  days  set  in,  thus  avoiding  the  risk  of 
any  further  complications  such  as  sciatica  or  rheu- 
matism." 

'*  I  will  not  believe  it ! "  Mr.  Saul  declared  passion- 
ately. "  There  must  be  other  doctors,  cleverer  men — 
men  who  know  their  business !  Let  them  be  called  in 
consultation." 

"  By  all  means,"  Lord  Brecon  agreed,  "  of  course 
we  will  leave  no  stone  unturned." 

But  the  summer  wore  slowly  on  and  brought  no 
lifting  of  the  cloud  to  the  household  at  the  Castle. 
Gradually  even  Mr.  Saul  lost  heart,  for  the  best  advice 
had  been  obtained — more  than  one  medical  man  of 
great  repute  had  been  summoned  from  London.  Each 
expressed  an  opinion  which,  though  widely  differing 
in  detail,  yet  agreed  upon  the  one  point,  namely,  that 
Lady  Cecil  Gwynne  would  never  walk  again;  more — 
that  she  would  in  all  probability  suffer  increasingly 
as  the  years  went  on.  They  did  not,  of  course,  com- 
mit themselves  to  the  expression  of  this  opinion  without 
a  struggle,  but  had  recourse  to  indefinite  generalities, 
until  pressed  into  a  corner  by  Mr.  Saul,  who  always 
insisted  upon  his  right  to  be  present  with  Lord  Brecon 


106        THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

and  Miss  Beresford  at  the  interviews  which  were  held 
in  the  library  after  the  consultations. 

Gradually  those  who  loved  Cecil  Gwynne  gave  up 
all  hope  of  her  recovery,  but  still  Robert  Saul  would 
not  accept  the  release  which  she  urged  upon  him ;  for 
his  engagement  gave  him  the  right  to  do  all  that  the 
most  devoted  care  could  accomplish  to  lift  her  awful 
burden.  He  saw  that  God  had,  in  His  inscrutable 
wisdom,  suddenly  called  upon  his  child  to  bear  a 
weight  of  pain  and  weariness  which  taxed  all  her  powers 
of  self-control.  At  least,  that  was  how  it  seemed  to 
him.  No  doubt  God  knew  best,  and  he  and  Cecil  must 
of  course  resign  themselves  to  His  will. 

One  week,  late  in  that  summer,  the  move  abroad  was 
accomplished.  Mercifully  the  horror  of  the  long  and 
tedious  journey  was  somewhat  mitigated  by  a  lavish 
expenditure  of  money.  More  than  once,  however,  Mr. 
Saul,  remembering  that  there  were  men  and  women  in 
his  parish  who  also  needed  this  change  of  climate  but 
whose  scanty  means  made  all  thought  of  such  a  thing 
impossible,  asked  himself  why  one  child  of  the  same 
Father  must  remain  the  long  winter  through  in  the 
unkind  atmosphere  of  the  London  fog;  while  another 
was  tenderly  carried  South  and  luxuriously  cared  for 
in  every  way.  How  fervently,  nevertheless,  he  thanked 
God  that  the  woman  he  loved  could  be  saved  the 
misery  of  the  fog-laden  English  days ! 

Once  during  that  winter,  after  the  stress  of  his 
Christmas  work  was  over,  Robert  spent  a  week  with 
Miss  Beresford  and  Lady  Cecil  at  Genoa.  But  upon 
his  return,  friends  exclaimed  at  his  haggard  appear- 
ance; and  indeed  he  told  himself  that  he  would  never 
again  willingly  pass  through  an  experience  such  as 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         107 

that  had  been.  Time  after  time  during  those  few  days 
he  had  abruptly  left  Cecil's  side,  unable  to  bear  the 
sight  of  her  hopeless  pain,  so  quietly  and  bravely 
endured.  For  the  most  part  she  never  spoke  of  her 
wrecked  life,  but  he  was  forced  into  a  reluctant  admis- 
sion, made  only  to  his  own  heart,  that  the  sweetness 
of  her  nature  was  becoming  a  little  marred,  as  month 
after  month  brought  with  it  a  heavier  burden  still  to 
bear.  Once,  though  only  once,  while  trying  to  ease 
her  pain,  Cecil  had  addressed  him  quite  irritably,  but 
many  times  she  had  shown  herself  to  be  unobservant 
of  his  little  acts  of  kindness.  He  had  not  minded, 
for  he  knew  that  he  himself  would  have  borne  a  trial 
such  as  hers  with  far  less  patience  than  she  displayed ; 
but  it  perplexed  as  well  as  grieved  him,  that  the  chas- 
tening hand  of  God  should  apparently  lead  to  the 
deterioration  of  a  noble  nature,  instead  of  uplifting 
it  to  a  higher  refinement.  Sadly  he  reflected  thait 
sickness  very  often  did  have  this  lowering  effect,  more 
often  than  not,  in  fact:  but  of  course  all  suffering  was 
sent  for  some  good  purpose.  In  this  instance  they 
had  done  all  that  mortal  man  could  do  to  cure  it,  and 
had  failed.  Nothing  now  remained,  therefore,  except 
quietly  to  resign  themselves  to  the  will  of  God,  the 
all-wise  Father,  who  evidently  did  not  see  fit  to  lift 
this  heavy  burden  from  His  child.  Mr.  Saul  could 
not  help  regretting  that  Cecil's  sweet  nature  should 
be  thus  warped  and  twisted  by  a  trial  which  surely 
ought  to  teach  her  patient  resignation.  He  could 
not  understand  it ;  and  wearily,  he  classed  it  with  those 
things,  the  number  of  which  seemed  to  increase  daily 
during  this  period  of  his  life,  which  the  world  regards 
as  things  not  to  be  understood! 


108         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

Yet  surely  it  was  strange  that  a  man  like  Robert 
Saul  should  have  been  content  thus  to  shelve  a  prob- 
lem dealing  with  the  eternal  welfare  of  mankind.  For 
he  was  wont,  when  faced  by  that  which  he  did  not 
comprehend,  steadily  to  think  the  matter  out,  and  he 
would  usually  wrestle  with  a  knotty  problem,  whether 
scientific  or  economic,  until  it  yielded  to  his  powerful 
intellect  and  purposeful  toil.  But  in  the  matter  of 
ethics  he  was  weighed  down — though  he  did  not  know 
it — by  that  universal  mental  lethargy,  which  "  healed 
also  the  hurt  of  the  daughter  of  my  people  slightly, 
saying,  Peace,  peace;  when  there  is  no  peace."  It  is 
so  much  easier,  it  would  seem,  for  man  to  accuse  the 
Great  First  Cause  of  being  the  author  of  all  that  goes 
wrong  than  for  him  to  bestir  himself  and  obey  the 
promptings  of  the  divine  energy  which  saith,  "  Ac- 
quaint now  thyself  with  him  and  be  at  peace:  thereby 
good  shall  come  unto  thee." 


CHAPTER    XII 

DERELICT 

There  are  longings,  yearnings,  strivings, 
For  the  good  they  comprehend  not, 
And  the  feeble  hands  and  helpless, 

i  Groping  blindly  in  the  darkness, 

Touch  God's  right  hand  in  that  darkness 
And  are  lifted  up  and  strengthened. 

— Longfellow, 

MANY  months  had  passed  since  Lady  Cecil  Gwynne 
had  been  brought  to  Italy,  but  the  climate  had  not 
restored  her  to  health,  though  no  doubt  the  sunshine 
had  made  her  lot  seem  a  little  less  unbearable.  Lord 
Brecon  and  his  aunt  had  moved  her  from  place  to 
place,  in  the  hope  that  constant  change  of  scene  might 
lift  the  weariness  of  spirit  which  now  seemed  to  pos- 
sess the  stricken  girl.  But  soon  even  a  short  drive 
became  too  arduous  an  undertaking  to  be  calmly  faced 
by  the  invalid,  whose  pain  grew  steadily  worse  as  time 
wore  on.  So  Mr.  Saul  had  come  over  upon  a  short 
holiday,  and  he  and  Lord  Brecon  had  scoured  the  most 
beautiful  parts  of  the  Riviera  together,  looking  for 
suitable  winter  quarters  in  which  to  establish  Miss 
Beresford  and  her  charge. 

But  Lady  Cecil  was  not  easy  to  please  in  this  matter. 
Her  bright  nature  was,  for  the  time  being,  completely 
overshadowed,  and  nothing  that  those  around  her  could 
do  seemed  to  satisfy  her  ever-changing  whim.  Indeed 

109 


110         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

the  once  gentle,  self-possessed  girl  appeared  now  to  be 
transformed,  as  though  by  some  evil  spirit,  into  a  fret- 
ful and  unreasoning  creature  who  made  no  attempt  to 
control  her  environment  but  allowed  herself  to  be  the 
sport  of  every  little  circumstance. 

At  times  it  was  almost  more  than  Robert  Saul  could 
bear  to  see  her  thus.  He  had  been  accustomed  to 
regard  her  as  a  dignified  woman  of  the  world  and  had 
never  supposed  that  she  could  behave  ungraciously 
or  ungratefully  to  anyone ;  much  less  so  to  those  who 
spent  the  greater  part  of  their  time  in  the  endeavour 
to  happify  her  life. 

At  last  their  search  was  successful,  and  before  Christ- 
mas the  two  ladies  were  established  in  a  beautiful  old 
palace  standing  high  among  the  orange  groves.  The 
impoverished  owner  was  glad  enough  to  accept  the 
liberal  terms  offered  by  the  luxurious  English  milord; 
and  so  the  palace  and  its  lovely  old  gardens  were 
secured  by  Lord  Brecon  for  a  year,  and  it  was  decided 
that  the  two  ladies  should  use  it  as  a  pied-a-terre  dur- 
ing their  sojourn  abroad. 

They  had  been  installed  in  it  for  some  months  when 
Lady  Margaret  Courcy  joined  her  young  cousin,  thus 
releasing  Miss  Beresford  for  a  time  from  the  labour 
of  love  which  the  unselfish  little  woman  had  so  cheer- 
fully fulfilled  for  nearly  two  years. 

One  beautiful  day  in  early  spring,  when  the  cloud- 
less sky  was  aglow  with  sunlight,  Lady  Cecil  Gwynne 
lay  alone  in  the  great  hall.  At  first  she  scarcely 
moved,  but  remained  almost  still,  with  her  eyes  closed. 
After  a  time,  however,  she  turned  wearily  upon  her 
side,  and  gazed  gloomily  out  upon  the  terraces  which 
stretched  away  in  a  gorgeous  perspective  of  colour, 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         111 

right  down  to  the  edge  of  the  Bay.  Everything 
seemed  to  bloom  luxuriantly  in  this  sunny  land,  and 
the  garden  was  radiant  with  its  wealth  of  flowers. 
Where  Cecil  Gwynne  lay,  however,  it  was  cool  and 
intensely  quiet.  Her  couch,  placed  within  the  great 
doors,  was  sheltered  from  the  sun  by  the  marble 
pillars  which  headed  the  broad  white  steps.  These 
led  down  into  the  garden,  only  ending  by  the  water 
side. 

To-day,  the  scent  of  the  orange  blossom  and  gar- 
denia almost  oppressed  the  air  and  reminded  the  sick 
girl,  hopelessly  chained  by  disease  to  her  couch,  that 
she  had  seen  bud,  blossom  and  fruit  come  and  go 
since  she  left  England  in  search  of  health,  but  not 
once  had  she  been  able  to  walk,  even  a  few  yards, 
to  pluck  flower  or  fruit  for  herself.  Always  must 
she  depend  upon  others,  and  this  dependence  so  fretted 
her  that  she  told  herself  often  that  it  was  a  burden 
too  great  to  bear.  Thus  her  natural  love  of  an  active 
life  rebelled  fiercely  against  her  enforced  inactivity, 
and  she  asked  herself  again,  as  she  had  done  many  times 
since  that  fatal  day,  why  this  thing  had  come  upon 
her? 

As  Cecil  Gwynne  mused  upon  her  hopeless  state,  a 
shadow  fell  across  the  whiteness  of  the  marble  colon- 
nade, and  Lady  Margaret  Courcy's  voice  addressed 
her,  commenting  upon  the  beauty  of  the  walk  from 
which  she  had  just  returned. 

The  next  moment  she  blamed  herself  for  the  thought- 
less speech,  for  she  knew  that,  in  all  the  weeks  that 
had  passed  since  her  arrival,  Cecil  had  not  felt  able 
even  to  drive  through  the  grounds  which  surrounded 
the  old  palace. 


112         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

Very  kindly  Lady  Margaret  now  bent  over  her  cousin 
and  arranged  her  pillow,  and  as  she  did  so  Cecil,  though 
less  observant  of  others  than  in  the  days  of  her 
strength,  yet  noticed  that  her  cousin's  manner  was,  if 
possible,  more  quiet  than  usual. 

"  Cecil !  "  Lady  Margaret  spoke  gravely  as  she 
seated  herself  beside  the  couch,  "  I  have  decided  to 
tell  you  something  which  I  think  may  help  you  to 
bear  your  pain  better,  for  it  will  show  you,  dear," 
and  now  the  elder  woman's  voice  was  very  gentle,  "  that 
there  are  worse  things  to  be  carried  through  life  than 
even  a  shattered  body !  " 

She  paused  and  looked  away  from  her  cousin  right 
across  the  blue  water  which  scintillated  in  the  sun- 
light as  she  continued ;  "  The  story  of  a  wrecked  soul 
— a  true  story  of  which  the  world  knows  nothing,  and 
of  which  I  only  speak  to  you  now,  because  it  seems 
that  you  are  in  danger  of  not  realising  all  that  life 
still  holds  for  you." 

Lady  Margarget  paused  a  moment.  This  that  she 
meant  to  do  was  not  easy  of  performance,  and  for  an 
instant  she  faltered.  But  a  glance  at  her  young 
cousin's  weary  face  decided  her  to  lift  the  stone  from 
the  sepulchre  of  the  past.  She  did  not  look  at  the 
sick  girl,  however,  as  she  told  her  tale,  but  turning  a 
little  she  leant  her  head  back  against  the  cool  marble 
pillar  and  gazed  steadily  westward,  where  the  sun 
made  glorious  play  upon  fleecy  clouds  and  distant 
mountain  slopes. 

Cecil  was  surprised  into  an  unusual  interest  by  her 
cousin's  attitude,  and  it  seemed  to  her  a  long  time 
before  Lady  Margaret  spoke  again. 

"  It  was  just  a  year  before  the  death  of  my  mother, 
and  I  was  barely  eighteen,"  Margaret  Courcy  resumed, 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         113 

"  when  our  Rector  at  Chiltern  took  a  long  holiday, 
and  a  man,  whose  surname  is  not  important  in  this 
narrative,  took  his  place  for  six  months.  I  had,  as 
you  know,  been  very  strictly  brought  up  and  had  been 
allowed  to  associate  with  but  a  few  outside  the  family 
circle.  Philip  was  quite  the  most  remarkable  man  that 
I  had  ever  met,  and  he  satisfied  the  need,  which  I  had 
felt  for  some  time,  of  an  intellectual  companion.  My 
father  at  that  time  was  much  away,  and  my  mother 
cared  for  nothing  but  her  model  farm  and  the  welfare 
of  the  tenantry.  She  took  a  great  fancy  to  Philip, 
and  he  was  constantly  at  the  Hall,  consulting  upon 
parochial  matters,  till  it  became  an  established  custom 
for  him  to  stay  to  tea.  Never  once,  however,  did  my 
mother  leave  us  alone  even  for  a  moment;  not  because 
it  would  have  entered  her  head  that  we  could  care  for 
each  other,  but  her  social  views  were  old-fashioned  in 
the  extreme,  and  she  considered  that  unmarried  girls 
should  remain  at  all  times  beneath  the  shadow  of  a 
parent's  wing.  Her  own  conversation  with  Philip  over, 
she  took  very  little  notice  of  us,  and  seemed  content 
that  we  should  enjoy  long  uninterrupted  talks,  while 
she  wrote  her  letters  or  busied  herself  with  the  copying 
of  an  old  tapestry.  She  was  an  expert  at  this  fine 
needlework,  and  it  quite  absorbed  her  attention,  when- 
ever she  engaged  upon  it.  So  it  was  that  Philip  and 
I  learned  to  know  each  other  well,  and  I  was  not  unpre- 
pared for  the  question  which  he  at  length  found  an 
opportunity  of  formally  putting  to  me.  One  day, 
while  we  were  all  walking  in  the  Park,  my  mother 
rested  for  a  few  moments,  and  I  obeyed  the  compelling 
look  which  Philip  threw  at  me  and  strolled  on  for  a 
few  hundred  yards  with  him,  until  the  trees  of  a  small 
coppice  partially  hid  us  from  her  view. 


114         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

"  Five  minutes  later,  I  had  promised  that,  come 
what  might,  I  would  be  his  wife,  and  I  wanted  then  and 
there  to  inform  my  mother  of  our  engagement ;  but 
my  lover  counselled  delay.  He  wished,  he  said,  to 
wait  until  my  father  returned  from  Russia:  he  would 
prefer  himself  to  put  the  matter  before  the  Duke. 
I  never  for  a  moment  doubted  the  final  issue,  for  I 
intended  to  marry  Philip,  or  to  die  unmarried. 

"  But  the  very  day  before  my  father's  expected  re- 
turn from  Russia,  Philip  astounded  me  by  boldly  pre- 
ferring a  request,  in  my  mother's  presence,  that  I 
would  walk  a  little  way  in  the  Park  with  him.  I  be- 
lieve that  my  mother  was  too  amazed  to  dissent.  It 
would  have  made  no  difference  had  she  done  so,  for  I 
should  have  disobeyed  her,  rather  than  the  look  of 
desperate  misery  in  my  lover's  eyes.  So,  braving  her 
certain  displeasure,  I  immediately  accompanied  Philip 
out  into  the  grounds.  Ten  minutes  later  we  stood 
together  in  the  now  snow-bound  coppice — alone,  for 
the  second  time  only  in  our  lives.  I  believe  that  Philip 
suffered  then  as  much  as  such  a  man  can  suffer,  while 
he  told  me,  in  a  few  miserable  halting  words  that  he 
could  never  marry  me ;  told  me  that  before  we  had  ever 
met  he  had  bound  himself  by  vows,  which  he  dared  not 
cut  asunder,  to  the  life  of  a  celibate. 

"  At  first,  it  seemed  to  me,  that  either  he  or  I  was 
surely  mad,  but,  when  I  understood  him,  my  heart 
seemed  to  turn  to  ice  and  my  blood  to  leap  and  rush 
through  my  veins  as  though  on  fire.  What  I  said  I 
hardly  knew  at  the  time,  enough  at  any  rate  to  send 
him  speechless  from  my  presence.  I  remember  noth- 
ing distinctly  until  «iy  mother  touched  me  upon  the 
arm  and  asked  me  if  I  were  ill.  Then  I  raised  my 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         115 

head  and  laughed  so  loud  that  terrified  she  led  me 
to  the  house.  It  was  believed  that  the  bitter  cold  had 
caught  me  unawares,  for  when  leaving  the  house  with 
Philip,  I  had  stayed  for  neither  hat  nor  wrap.  Many 
weeks  I  lay  between  life  and  death,  my  limbs  fettered 
by  rheumatic  fever  and  my  brain  bewildered  by  a  hun- 
dred wildest  dreams.  However,  my  youth  and  strength 
brought  me  through,  but  during  my  convalescence  I 
asked  myself  how  I  should  live  the  life  before  me?  It 
was  not  only  that  Philip  had  killed  my  faith  in  him. 
He  had  done  far  worse  than  that!  Though  I  was 
only  eighteen  my  religion  was  already  the  dominant 
feature  of  my  life ;  I  believed  implicity  in  the  Apostolic 
succession,  and  therefore  I  had  believed  and  accepted 
absolutely  every  word  that  Philip's  tongue  had  voiced, 
and  often  he  used  to  speak  of  the  fundamental  necessity 
of  truth  in  all  religion.  I  had  listened  enrapt  as, 
Sunday  after  Sunday,  he  preached  to  our  village  con- 
gregation of  the  beauty  of  holiness ;  I  believe  now  that 
my  love,  combined  with  my  ignorance,  exalted  him 
at  times  into  something  far  above  the  ordinary  man. 
His  beautiful  ascetic  face  and  perfect  intonation  lent 
a  great  charm  to  his  rendering  of  the  service.  I 
judged  the  Church  by  him  and,  with  the  simplicity  of 
a  child,  I  accepted  him  as  the  impersonation  of  truth. 
"  You  can  imagine  what  a  revulsion  necessarily  took 
place  when  I  found  that,  from  the  very  first,  he  had 
been  guilty  of  deception.  I  was  very  young  and  very 
proud,  and  this  discovery  completely  annihilated  my 
faith  in  man  and  filled  me  with  distrust  of  the  organisa- 
tion, of  which  Philip  was  a  minister.  Later,  however, 
I  saw  that  it  was  unjust  to  judge  the  many  by  the 
one. 


116         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

"  From  that  day  to  this  I  have  searched  and  searched 
for  peace,  but  I  find  none.  I  find  myself  compelled  to 
believe  in  a  great  creative  and  controlling  power,  who 
appears  to  me  to  act  with  less  consistency  and  to 
show  less  love  towards  his  children  than  I  would  to  a 
dumb  creature  in  my  care.  And  yet," — Lady  Mar- 
garet spoke  wistfully  now,  and  the  hard  lines  about  her 
mouth  softened  as  her  lips  trembled  slightly — "  and 
yet,  I  am  so  hungering  for  Truth,  so  longing  to 
believe  in  a  God  of  love,  that  I  would  fain,  even  now, 
after  all  my  years  of  weary  search,  be  told  that  the 
mistake  lies  in  myself — if  so  be,  I  can  thus  learn  how 
to  rectify  it." 

As  Margaret  Courcy  ceased  speaking  her  voice 
dropped  wearily,  and  Lady  Cecil  caught  her  cousin's 
hand  in  both  her  own. 

"  Oh,  Margaret !  "  she  said,  "  what  you  have  suf- 
fered! I  would  rather  die,"  she  added  vehemently, 
"  than  know  Robert  other  than  he  is." 

Lady  Margaret  rose  and  kissed  the  girl  softly  on 
the  forehead.  "  My  story  lies  safe  in  your  keeping, 
Cecil;  see  that  it  never  leaves  your  lips.  The  un- 
shrouding  of  my  dead  has  been  no  easy  task,  but  if 
it  can  help  the  living,  I  am  glad  to  have  unbound 
the  cords  that  held  the  past  so  close  within  my  heart. 
Tell  me,  Cecil," — she  added  rather  piteously — "  does 
your  religion  help  you,  dear?  So  often  I  have  watched 
the  good  ones  of  this  earth  fret  and  rattle  in  their 
chains !  I  do  not  understand  it.  Why  does  sorrow 
warp  and  narrow  the  mentality  of  man?  Why  does 
sickness  blemish  the  character  instead  of  sanctifying 
it,  if,  as  the  Church  teaches,  it  comes  from  God?  " 

"  Why  am  I  more  selfish  now  than  formerly,  more 


THE    SEAMLESS    ROBE         117 

hard  and  cold?  capricious  instead  of  reasonable?" 
Cecil  Gwynne  broke  in  passionately.  "  I  do  not  under- 
stand it  either,  Margaret.  I  have  prayed  for  patience 
night  and  day;  but,  oh!  it  must  come  quickly,  or 
I  too  shall  lose  my  faith  in  God,  if  not  in  man."  And 
the  girl  turned  gloomily  away  and  spoke  no  more  for 
many  hours. 

After  a  time  Lady  Margaret  Courcy  rose  and  walked 
slowly  up  and  down  the  great  hall ;  and  as  she  watched 
her  Cecil  Gwynne  did  not  wonder  that  a  priest  had 
perjured  his  soul  to  win  her. 

Though  the  years  had  passed  since  then,  Margaret 
Courcy  was  still  the  most  beautiful  woman  in  London. 
Tall,  and  with  a  carriage  that  many  a  queen  had  envied, 
she  passed  through  life  with  a  serene  and  stately 
grace.  To-day,  with  undulating  grace,  she  paced  the 
hall  from  end  to  end;  now  pausing  beneath  a  slender 
palm  with  its  drooping  plume  of  green,  now  arresting 
her  steps  between  the  marble  pillars  which  foiled  and 
framed  her  dark,  but  brilliant,  beauty  between  their 
lines  of  glistening  white.  Cecil  looked  at  her  and, 
looking,  thought  that  surely  time  had  passed  her  by, 
leaving  her  classic  beauty  quite  untouched.  She  now 
understood  for  the  first  time  that  it  was  this  wound, 
received  in  early  youth,  which  had  turned  her  cousin's 
heart  to  stone,  transforming  her  into  a  woman  full 
grown  before  ever  she  had  bent  her  knee  before  her 
sovereign. 

While  still  very  young,  the  Lady  Margaret  Courcy 
had  accompanied  the  Duke,  her  father,  into  the  pres- 
ence of  kings  and  princes  and  everywhere  had  been 
the  courted  of  all  courtiers,  so  alluring  men  by  her 
loveliness  of  face  and  form  that  they  dared  to  brave 


118         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

the  cold  disdain,  which  made  its  home  within  her  eyes 
and  claimed  for  its  very  own  the  smile  upon  her  lips. 
But  always  her  answer  had  been  the  same — she  loved 
no  man  and  would  never  marry  where  she  did  not 
love. 

This  much  Cecil  Gwynne  had  known,  as  did  all  their 
world,  but  of  her  cousin's  inner  life  she  had,  until  that 
hour,  known  no  more  than  did  the  young  courtier  who 
bent  before  the  Lady  Margaret  at  his  first  court  ball 
and  who,  because  he  was  so  young  and  as  yet  almost 
unspotted  by  the  world,  was  sure  to  win  from  her 
a  smile  less  cold  than  did  the  elder  men  who,  standing 
by,  bent  low  as  well — men  who,  when  bending,  stirred 
carelessly  the  orders  upon  their  breasts — jewels  too 
lightly  won  to  be  aught  but  lightly  worn. 

That  evening  the  cousins  talked  long  and  earnestly, 
and  later,  when  Margaret  Courcy  sat  alone  in  her 
room,  she  sighed  wearily  more  than  once  and  asked 
herself  sadly,  what  was  the  object  of  it  all?  To  what 
end  had  she  come  into  the  world?  For  what  reason 
was  Cecil's  young  life — aye,  and  that  of  many  another 
— turned  suddenly  into  a  burden  so  great  as  this?  a 
burden  so  great  that  those  who  loved  them  best  could 
find  it  in  their  hearts  to  pray  that  death  might  hasten 
his  silent  step  and  so  release  them  from  the  bondage 
of  their  hourly  pain?  But  here  thought  gave  pause 
as  Margaret,  startled,  asked  herself ;  "  And  what  then  ? 
what  beyond  the  grave  ?  "  Then  answering  thought, 
all  befogged  by  the  misty  earth-clouds  of  the  past, 
made  slow  reply ;  "  Beyond  the  grave  there  is  nothing 
certain,  save  a  great  uncertainty ! " 


CHAPTER    XIII 

"MAN,  WHOSE   BREATH  IS   IN   HIS   NOSTRILS" 

Negation  is  a  barren  wilderness. 

— J.  Crichton  Brown. 

A  FEW  days  after  her  intimate  talk  with  her  cousin, 
Lady  Cecil  Gwynne  wrote  to  Mr.  Saul — a  long  let- 
ter, definitely  breaking  off  their  engagement.  She 
wrote  lovingly,  but  quite  decidedly.  It  was  the  least 
egotistical  letter  that  she  had  written  to  her  lover  for 
a  long  time,  and  it  touched  him  deeply.  His  reply  was 
characteristic  of  the  man's  impulsive  nature.  He  sent 
a  swift  message  over  land  and  sea  informing  Lady 
Cecil  that  he  was  starting  by  that  morning's  mail  for 
Italy. 

Next  evening,  as  he  knelt  beside  her  couch  and 
pleaded  that  she  would  reconsider  her  decision,  his 
fellow-workers  would  scarcely  have  recognised  Robert 
Saul  as  the  man  whom  they  were  accustomed  to  see 
take  all  obstacles  in  his  stride.  Often  he  seemed  to 
those  who  watched  him  to  be  riding  for  a  fall,  but  in- 
variably his  courage  and  unswerving  determination 
landed  him  safely  upon  the  far  side,  while  other  men 
were  left  behind,  still  cautiously  negotiating  the  leap 
from  a  less  difficult  point. 

To-night,  the  soft  brightness  of  the  moon  shed  a 
light,  more  gentle  though  nearly  as  clear  as  day,  full 

119 


120         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

upon  Mr.  Saul's  face,  and  the  rugged  lines  seemed  to 
be  smoothed  away  by  the  tender  thought  which  entirely 
controlled  him. 

Very  kindly  he  held  Cecil's  almost  nerveless  hands 
within  his  large  strong  grasp,  and  very  gently  he  at 
last  consented  to  annul  his  engagement,  but  only  for 
a  year. 

"  You  have  so  often  spoken  like  this  of  late,"  he 
said,  "  that  I  am  compelled  to  obey  you  and  take  my 
dismissal  with  what  grace  I  may,  but,  my  dear," 
and  he  smiled  as  he  quietly  drew  her  head  upon  his 
shoulder,  "  I  wonder  why  you  do  it !  You  surely  know 
that  upon  the  very  day  the  year  is  up  I  shall  stand 
beside  you  and  renew  the  contract.  Why  waste  a 
year,  beloved?"  he  pleaded,  "you  know  that  I  shall 
always  love  you,  and  you  alone!  You  know  that  I 
could  never  marry  any  other  woman!  Why  waste  a 
precious  year?  Marry  me  to-morrow,  Cecil,"  he  added 
more  passionately,  "  and  prove  me,  dear,  if  I  be  not 
the  tenderest,  kindest  nurse  that  ever  a  woman 
had!" 

With  his  arms  about  her,  wooing  her  by  their  strong 
support,  Cecil  yet  fought  and  won  the  battle  between 
duty  and  desire.  It  was  hard  indeed  to  forego  the  only 
thing  that  seemingly  could  mitigate  her  lot,  but  she 
remembered — what  Robert  at  the  moment  did  not 
remember — that  his  work  called  him  to  a  more  strenu- 
ous life  than  could  be  wrought  out  beside  a  woman's 
chair. 

Reminded  of  this,  Mr.  Saul  for  an  instant  stood 
almost  doubtful,  but  immediately  he  gave  his  stead- 
fast answer  back. 

"  My  parish  can   doubtless  be  better  managed  by 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         121 

a  better  man,  and  there  is  work  for  God's  servants 
everywhere.  Is  the  world  not  wide,  and  is  there  not 
sin  upon  which  to  wage  war  from  north  to  south,  from 
east  to  west?  As  well  work  out  the  great  problem  of 
good  and  evil  here  in  the  sunny  South  with  you  to 
help  me,  as  in  the  colder  North,  where  you  cannot  be 
beside  me." 

But  Cecil  would  not  have  it  so.  Should  he  still 
wish  it  a  year  hence,  they  might  then  renew  the  dis- 
cussion. The  celebrated  continental  doctors,  from 
whose  treatment,  combined  with  the  climate  of  the 
Mediterranean,  they  had  all  hoped  so  much,  had, 
however,  that  week  told  Lady  Margaret  Courcy  that 
her  cousin's  fate  was  sealed,  and  Cecil  insisted  that 
she  would  not  tie  Robert's  vigorous  manhood  to  her 
helpless  state. 

Softly  Robert  kissed  her  tears  away,  soothing  her 
gently  as  a  mother  tenderly  caresses  a  tired  child, 
when  nursing  it  to  sleep.  Then  he  left  her  with  Mar- 
garet Courcy,  and  walked  out  into  the  silent  night, 
there  to  battle  with  a  future  which  stretched  out  in 
endless  view  before  his  sorrowful  imagination. 

To-night,  Cecil  had  been  like  her  own  sweet  self, 
brave  and  thoughtful  for  the  welfare  of  another,  keep- 
ing her  own  deep  sorrow  in  the  background.  But 
Robert  knew  that  the  effort  had  been  a  supreme  one, 
and  that  probably  upon  the  morrow  all  her  sweetness 
would  be  submerged  once  more  by  the  turbulent  waves 
of  bodily  suffering.  Oh,  the  pity  of  it !  that  a  nature 
once  so  lovable  and  lovely — aye,  a  character  of  such 
rich  promise — should  now  be  able  to  rise  only  when 
called  upon  to  meet  a  great  occasion,  letting  for  the 
most  part  the  daily  stress  of  life's  little  things  govern 


122         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

it  completely,  thus  filling  the  moral  atmosphere  around 
with  the  darkness  of  perpetual  discord. 

As  Mr.  Saul  walked  upon  the  moonlit  shore,  he 
turned  and  stood  for  a  while  gazing  at  the  silver  sea. 
It  rose  and  fell  with  a  placid  movement,  gently  swell- 
ing its  way  over  the  white  sands  and  softly  lapping 
the  base  of  the  ink-black  rocks.  And  the  golden 
moon  smiled  gravely  upon  the  scene  but  brought  no 
comfort  to  the  sorrowing  man,  who  stood  with  face 
turned  upwards,  silently  petitioning  for  light  upon 
the  rugged  path  of  life. 

For  hours  Robert  Saul  remained  there,  and  that 
night  he  vowed,  again  and  again,  that  come  what 
might,  he  would  love  and  shelter  Cecil  Gwynne  as 
much  as  in  him  lay,  and  this,  as  long  as  they  both 
should  live. 

To  remain  in  London  within  easy  reach  of  her  and 
yet  forbidden  to  see  her,  did  not  at  the  moment  seem 
possible  to  Mr.  Saul.  He  was  in  that  condition  of 
mind  which  made  the  Babylonian  turmoil  of  the  city's 
teeming  need  abhorrent  to  him.  Upon  every  side,  look 
where  he  would,  he  saw  the  same  dead  level  of  failure, 
and  to-night  it  made  him  sick  at  heart.  Noble  men 
and  loving  women  were,  he  knew,  overworking  them- 
selves hourly — some  into  a  premature  old  age,  some 
into  a  state  of  mental  exhaustion,  and  some  even  liter- 
ally to  death — in  the  endeavour  to  save  a  world  from 
sin,  and  with  what  result?  With  all  their  unselfish 
toil,  with  all  their  liberal  expenditure  of  money  and  of 
life,  had  they  done  more  than  touch  the  fringe  of  that 
seething  sin  which  festers  the  heart  of  heathen  London  ? 

Along  there  by  the  quiet  sea,  with  only  the  calm  of 
the  still  night  about  him,  Mr.  Saul  confessed  to  him- 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

self  that  because  the  world  loves  its  sin  so  well,  some- 
thing— what  he  knew  not — but  something  with  a  power 
as  yet  untried,  must  arise  in  order  to  stem  the  down- 
ward trend  of  man's  morality. 

As  the  night  wore  slowly  on,  the  resolve  to  leave 
England  for  a  time  formed  itself  within  his  mind. 
For  this  coming  year,  at  any  rate,  he  would  go  to  some 
distant  land,  as  far  as  might  be  from  any  city's  crowded 
need,  and  there  renew  his  mental  energy. 

The  early  dawn  was  creeping  up  from  the  east  as 
he  turned  his  steps  homeward.  Thick  clouds  were 
drifting  overhead,  for  the  bright  moonlight  had  given 
place  to  an  uncertain  shade  that  brooded  over  the 
land  and  shrouded  olive  trees  and  palms  alike  in  name- 
less robes  of  shadow.  The  wooded  landscape  was  thus 
peopled  with  uncertain  forms,  which  changed  continu- 
ally as  his  vision  neared  them,  even  as  does  the  back- 
ground of  a  misty  dream. 

And  how  was  Cecil  spending  the  long  hours  of  that 
night,  during  which  Robert  schooled  himself  to  meet 
the  farewell  which  lay  before  them  both  upon  the  mor- 
row? For  her,  the  night  was  always  a  period  of 
suffering  such  as  can  be  understood  only  by  those 
who  have  endured  a  like  torture.  Days  of  enforced 
inactivity  were  followed  by  nights  of  restless  misery; 
hour  after  hour  she  lay  awake,  her  distress  seeming 
the  greater  because  of  the  quiet  rest  en j  oyed  by  others. 

To-night,  sleep  was  far  indeed  from  her  pillow,  but 
she  dared  not  take  the  drug  which  lay  ready  to  her 
hand.  Every  dose  was  less  efficacious  and,  to  be  of 
use,  must  be  continually  increased.  For  weeks  she 
had  found  it  impossible  to  sleep  without  taking  the 
narcotic.  How  often  she  had  vowed  that  she  would 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

not  take  it !  Sometimes,  by  sheer  force  of  will,  she 
succeeded  in  living  the  night  through  without  its  aid; 
but,  alas!  how  often  had  she  been  defeated  by  the 
mental  agony  of  insomnia,  coupled  with  the  presence 
of  severe  physical  pain.  To-night,  she  read  again, 
for  the  twentieth  time  since  Margaret  Courcy  had  left 
her,  the  instruction  upon  the  bottle  which  the  nurse 
had  placed  close  to  her  hand,  "  To  be  taken  if  restless 
at  night." 

The  words  were  a  perpetual  invitation  to  unrest,  a 
perpetual  suggestion  of  relief — relief  of  a  purely  tem- 
porary nature  she  knew,  and  carrying  in  its  train  the 
inevitable  reaction  upon  the  morrow.  Now  for  some 
hours  the  girl  courted  repose  by  every  wile  of  which 
she  found  herself  the  mistress ;  but  in  vain.  The  day 
had  been  a  trying  one,  and  the  future  years  stared  her 
in  the  face  with  a  cruel  grimness.  Lady  Cecil  had  of 
late  acquired  the  habit,  which  usually  goes  hand  in 
hand  with  chronic  illness,  of  living  in  the  future  and 
the  past;  thus  she  lived  a  year  in  a  day  and  was 
rapidly  losing  all  sense  of  youth. 

Once  Robert  had  gently  reminded  her  that  we  are 
told  to  "  take  no  thought  for  the  morrow,"  but,  even 
as  he  spoke,  he  realised  that  he  knew  no  one  who 
obeyed  the  Master's  command,  unless  it  were  those  of 
tenderest  age  and  gentlest  nature  among  children. 

As  Cecil  Gwynne  now  tossed  from  side  to  side,  she 
moaned  in  her  stress  of  mind,  and  asked  herself  why 
the  life  which  she  had  meant  to  live  for  others  had 
been  rendered  useless  by  her  God?  Why  also  should 
Robert  suffer  with  her?  Reflecting,  she  realised  that 
the  sickness  of  the  one  usually  meant  the  suffering  of 
the  many:  whether  it  were  the  busy  mother  of  a 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE          125 

family,  or  the  bread-winner  for  many  hungry  mouths, 
mattered  not.  How  could  it  be  a  just  decree  that 
punished  the  helpless  brood  dependent  upon  the  parent 
strength,  sometimes  for  its  very  life?  But  of  what 
avail  to  ask  this  question  ?  Death  would  come  to  all  in 
time  and,  coming,  would  bring  to  all  alike  the  solution 
of  the  problem  of  their  being.  Meanwhile,  life  must  be 
borne  as  best  it  might  be  and  death  awaited  with  what 
patience  each  sufferer  could  command !  At  last,  worn 
out  with  these  perplexing  thoughts,  the  girl  could  bear 
the  lonely  night  hours  no  longer  and,  reaching  for  the 
draught,  she  sought  a  troubled  rest — a  rest  all  un- 
worthy of  the  name,  because  all  too  short  and  fitful 
to  refresh  or  soothe. 

As  the  weary  months  slowly  followed  the  one  upon 
the  other,  she  asked  herself  again  and  again  those 
weighty  questions  to  which,  sooner  or  later,  all  must 
seek  an  answer: — If  God  is  Love,  why  does  He  send 
to  His  children  the  grievous  burden  of  sickness  and 
death?  Does  He  slay  the  very  child  to  whom  He  has 
given  birth?  or,  being  Almighty,  does  He  authorise 
or  permit  some  other  power  so  to  do  ?  And  what  meant 
Jesus  by  all  that  he  said  and  did?  When  healing  the 
sick,  was  he  undoing  the  work  of  Him  who  sent  him? 
or  was  he  releasing  those  "  Whom  Satan  hath  bound  "? 
When  raising  the  dead  was  he  reversing  the  will  of 
God,  or,  by  restoring  that  which  to  human  vision 
seemed  lost,  was  he  showing  to  men  the  "  glory  of 
God  " — the  righteousness  of  life  and  the  unrighteous- 
ness of  its  opposite,  death? 

Cecil  Gwynne  did  not,  however,  carry  the  question 
thus  far.  Indeed  she  seldom  carried  any  question  far, 
for  her  once  clear  thought  was  often  now  benumbed; 


126         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

but  slowly  a  conviction  was  borne  in  upon  her,  and  it 
brought  her  closer  to  God  than  she  had  ever  been  be- 
fore. This  hell  in  which  she  lived !  it  was  not  of  His 
making,  and  so  she  would  pray  day  and  night  to  be 
released  from  it.  She  would  not  resign  herself  to  this 
wasted  existence ;  above  all,  she  would  not  hold  God 
responsible  for  it.  Thus  she  thought,  and  thus  she 
prayed  in  her  better  moments ;  but  then  would  come 
days  all  clouded  with  pain,  and  she  would  sink  beneath 
the  weight  of  that  theology  which  holds  God  guilty 
of  all  that  men  fail  to  comprehend. 

But  running  through  even  her  darkest  hours  was  a 
desire  to  escape  from  the  sickness  that  imprisoned  her, 
and  often  now  her  thought  recurred  to  a  certain  course, 
of  which  many  friends  had  spoken,  but  which  she  had 
not  hitherto  seriously  contemplated,  chiefly  because  she 
found  it  impossible  to  believe  that  anything  could  aid 
one  in  such  a  hopeless  condition  as  herself.  Now,  how- 
ever, with  a  curious  persistence  this  one  untried  remedy 
presented  itself  to  her,  until  finally  she  decided  to 
consult  her  brother  about  the  matter ;  and  she  was 
actually  disappointed  when  he  refused  to  give  it  any 
serious  consideration,  deeming  it  both  useless  and  ab- 
surd to  try  anything  of  the  kind.  He  knew  nothing 
of  Christian  Science,  but  he  pronounced  it  fit  only  for 
the  consideration  of  hysterical  women  or  nervous  men ; 
and  so  for  a  time  Cecil  Gwynne,  too  weak  to  argue, 
sank  into  a  state  of  hopeless  apathy,  leaving  the  mis- 
take of  man  to  run  its  course. 


CHAPTER   XIV 
ANGOLA* 

Whatever  day 
Makes  man  a  slave  takes  half  his  worth  away. 

— Pope. 

IT  was  a  week  since  Mr.  Saul  had  so  reluctantly  taken 
farewell  of  Lady  Cecil  Gwynne,  and  he  was  now  mak- 
ing his  final  arrangements  preparatory  to  leaving 
England  for  a  year.  His  friends  and  acquaintances 
all  thought  him  mistaken  and  wondered  that  any  such 
sudden  freak  should  rule  a  man  like  Robert  Saul. 
Then  a  whisper  of  his  love  story  found  its  way  about, 
and  men  marvelled  still  more,  for  they  had  not  sup- 
posed that  the  woman  lived  who  could  cause  any 
alteration  in  the  plan  of  Mr.  Saul's  life!  But  only 
one  friend  ever  spoke  to  him  on  the  subject,  and  that 
was  Lord  Brecon.  He  himself  was  of  all  men  the 
least  ambitious,  but  he  had  a  great  admiration  for 
Mr.  Saul's  remarkable  powers  of  mind  and  also  for 
his  splendid  vitality;  and  it  seemed  to  him  that  the 
man  was  sacrificing  the  certainty  of  a  great  future 
to  a  passing  phase,  born  of  a  disappointment  which 
would  have  been  more  quickly  outgrown  had  he  re- 
mained at  his  post  in  the  crowded  capital. 

"  '  Out  of  sight,'  was,"  he  reminded  Robert,  "  *  out 

*  This  chapter  is  founded  upon  information,  received  personally 
from  an  English  missionary  and  published  in  the  "  Illustrated 
Missionary  News,"  and  from  "A  Modern  Slavery,"  by  Nevinson. 

127 


128         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

of  mind.' '  For  a  rising  man  to  leave  England  when, 
should  he  remain,  he  had  the  certainty  of  preferment 
before  him,  was  surely  an  act  of  supreme  folly. 

Mr.  Saul  listened  to  his  friend  courteously,  but  he 
hardly  heard  what  he  said.  It  was  not  his  habit  to 
alter  his  decision  at  the  suggestion  of  anyone.  The 
boy  had,  in  his  case,  undoubtedly  fathered  the  man. 
Years  ago  nurse,  parent  and  schoolmasters  had  alike 
called  him  obstinate,  and  the  characteristic  was  his 
still,  though  there  were  not  many  people  sufficiently 
intimate  with  him  to  use  that  same  bald  word  now. 
With  the  passing  of  years  he  had  acquired  that  habit 
of  mind  which  rather  prides  itself  upon  what  the  world, 
with  superficial  hurry,  designates  as  firmness :  and  he 
now  left  England,  notwithstanding  all  that  Lord 
Brecon  urged  to  the  contrary. 

On  his  arrival  in  Angola  he  made  arrangements  al- 
most immediately  with  a  missionary,  whom  he  chanced 
to  meet  upon  landing,  to  join  him  in  a  journey  up 
country.  It  was  his  intention  to  begin  a  crusade 
against  the  fiendish  cruelty  which  he  heard  was  daily 
practised  upon  the  helpless  negroes  in  the  interior ;  and 
a  week  after  he  reached  Africa  he  started  upon  his 
mission. 

To-day,  the  flat  country  for  miles  around  appeared 
to  be  asleep ;  not  a  human  being  stirred,  and  even  the 
animals  were  seemingly  oppressed  by  the  heat  and  were 
maintaining  an  unusual  silence.  The  day  was  intensely 
hot,  and  a  shimmering  mist  hung  over  the  landscape. 
The  great  leaves  of  the  banana  and  plantain  trees, 
beribboned  by  a  recent  gale,  now  hung  motionless, 
and  Mr.  Saul  and  his  new  acquaintance  agreed  that 
they  must  at  once  seek  the  safety  of  shade  and  rest. 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE          129 

An  hour  previously  they  had  landed  upon  the  shore 
of  Cabinda  Bay,  intending  at  once  to  proceed  into 
the  interior.  The  sun,  however,  was  already  high  in 
the  heavens,  and  Mr.  Saul  was  too  little  acclimatised 
to  venture  upon  a  further  journey  until  the  cool  of 
the  evening.  The  two  men  therefore  entered  a  little 
bungalow  close  to  the  landing  stage,  and  it  was  with 
a  sigh  of  relief  that  Robert  Saul  threw  himself  full 
length  upon  the  bare  boards  of  the  verandah,  which 
ran  round  three  sides  of  the  tiny  factory.  This  little 
white  building,  with  its  green  jalousies,  formed  a  well- 
known  landmark  for  miles  around.  After  a  short 
period,  during  which  he  vainly  endeavoured  to  obtain 
a  little  rest,  Mr.  Saul  resigned  himself  to  the  discom- 
fort of  his  position,  and  rather  suddenly  fell  asleep  in 
spite  of  the  army  of  mosquitoes  which  quickly  recog- 
nised the  fresh  blood  and  sought  it  hungrily.  Scarcely 
half  an  hour  had  passed,  however,  before  he  awoke  to 
the  dim  realisation  of  something  unpleasant.  Rousing, 
he  leant  upon  one  elbow  and  gazed  across  the  rough 
track,  trodden  by  the  bare  feet  of  the  blacks  into  some 
semblance  of  a  road.  There  he  saw  that  a  complete 
change  had  come  over  the  lethargic  scene  since  he  had 
entered  the  factory  but  a  short  while  since. 

The  little  store  which  adjoined  it  was  still  closed, 
but  already  gangs  of  people  had  come  in  from  the 
interior,  their  number  having  been  increased  en  route 
by  many  stragglers — natives  who  had  attached  them- 
selves to  their  more  prosperous  brothers  in  the  hope 
of  earning  a  bottle  of  rum  by  carrying  the  palm  kernels 
and  other  native  produce,  when  the  way  became  rough 
and  the  sun  more  powerful.  It  was  the  noisy  chatter 
of  these  blacks  that  had  aroused  Mr.  Saul,  for  there 


130 

were  numbers  round  the  verandah,  and  they  were  all 
awaiting  with  much  impatience  the  arrival  of  the  white 
man. 

Presently  the  door  of  the  store  was  unlocked  from 
within,  and  a  greedy  rush  was  made  by  the  natives, 
each  desiring  to  be  the  first  to  barter  his  produce  for 
rum. 

Three  hours  later,  Mr.  Saul  turned  with  sorrow  and 
disgust  from  the  scene  before  him.  Trade  had,  alas! 
been  brisk,  and  now  not  a  native  was  left  upon  his 
feet.  Some  lay  prostrate  under  the  cocoa-nut  palms, 
too  drunk  to  resent  the  pilfering  hand  which  stole 
towards  the  last  half-bottle  of  rum  that  had  slipped 
from  the  nerveless  fingers :  others  snored  the  hours 
away  in  besotted  slumber,  lying  huddled  just  where 
the  cursed  devil,  drink,  had  thrown  them :  others,  whose 
share  of  the  spoil  had  been  less,  were  drunk  also,  but 
not  helplessly  so.  These  quarrelled  uproariously, 
mingling  their  native  dialect  with  profane  cries  in  an- 
other language — cries  in  which  they  appealed  to  the 
white  man's  fetish  to  save  them  from  some  fancied 
foe — one  man  taking  out  an  image  of  the  Virgin 
Mother  and  thrusting  it  before  the  face  of  his  con- 
tentious neighbour,  while  another  attempted  to  balance 
himself  upon  his  knees  before  an  image  of  the  Saviour 
and  with  horrible,  drunken  babbling  implored  vengeance 
upon  his  brother. 

Filled  with  disgust  and  indignation,  Mr.  Saul  leaped 
from  the  low  verandah  and,  with  one  sweep  of  his 
powerful  arm,  hurled  the  miserable  creature  out  of 
his  path.  Stooping,  he  lifted  the  clay  image,  which 
had  for  him  a  sanctity  utterly  incomprehensible  to 
its  owner  even  when  sober,  and,  carrying  it  into  the 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE          131 

house,  he  sought  his  friend.  He  found  him  in  the  small 
back  room  to  which  he  had  retired  upon  their  arrival. 
Mr.  Martin  was  just  drawing  on  his  white  drill  coat 
and  preparing  to  mix  himself  a  cool  drink  of  lime 
juice  and  tonic  water. 

The  sight  of  Mr.  Saul's  face,  however,  arrested  his 
action.  "What  is  it?"  he  asked,  surprised. 

"  Blasphemy  and  bestiality,"  Mr.  Saul  replied  bit- 
terly. "  Is  this  how  the  white  man  civilises  his  black 
brother?  "  he  added  passionately,  and  as  he  spoke,  he 
drew  Mr.  Martin  into  the  open  doorway  from  which 
spot  the  pandemonium  outside  could  be  seen  and  heard. 

A  moment  later  the  young  trader  joined  them.  "  I 
have  had  a  good  day,"  he  said  complacently,  "  I  have 
passed  a  hundred  and  eighty  gallons  of  rum." 

"  To-day  is  Sunday,"  Mr.  Saul  remarked  coldly : 
"  Is  this  a  fair  specimen  of  your  Sundays  here?  " 

"  It  is  a  fair  specimen  of  the  three  hundred  and 
sixty-five  days  of  the  year,"  the  man  answered  calmly. 
"  Rum  is  the  thing  that  pays  here,  for  not  only  do 
we  barter  with  it,  but  the  wages  of  workmen  are 
usually  paid  in  it." 

Angry  and  sick  at  heart,  Mr.  Saul  turned  away. 
He  had  left  England  hoping  to  rest  awhile  from  the 
perpetual  conflict  with  vice,  but  here  he  found  degra- 
dation as  deep  and  pitiful.  What  of  the  man  beside 
him — a  young  Englishman  apparently  of  good  birth 
and  education,  who  was,  it  seemed,  content  to  spend 
his  best  years  in  deliberately  holding  out,  with  both 
hands,  ruin  to  a  race  too  ignorant  to  recognise  as 
such  the  snares  which  were  being  wound  around  it? 

That  evening  the  two  clergymen  started  upon  their 
further  journey  into  the  interior,  and  from  his  com- 


132         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

panion  Robert  Saul  heard  much  that  shocked  him 
deeply. 

Later,  when  he  came  across  the  natives  much  further 
inland,  he  forced  this  question  home  upon  his  thought, 
"  Has  Christianity,  as  it  has  been  taught  in  Angola, 
elevated  the  race?  "  For  here,  in  the  interior,  he  found 
the  native  religion  was  the  same  as  that  of  other 
Basota  tribes,  and  he  could  not  deny  that,  heathen 
though  they  were,  the  depravity  was  less  marked  up 
in  the  interior  than  upon  the  coast,  where  their  religion 
was  unworthy  to  bear  the  name  of  Christ,  being  no 
more  than  a  mixed  jumble  of  idolatry  and  superstition 
without  a  particle  of  spiritual  understanding. 

One  day,  while  returning  to  the  coast,  chance  led 
Mr.  Saul  across  the  route  used  by  the  traders  when 
carrying  off  their  victims  to  the  West  Coast.  That 
the  slave  trade  was  actively  carried  on  in  the  vast 
district,  roughly  described  as  the  interior  of  Central 
Africa,  he  knew.  Upon  the  day  of  which  I  write, 
however,  he  was  for  the  first  time  brought  face  to  face 
with  it  and  saw  before  him,  unmasked  and  naked  in 
its  awful  pain,  "  Africa's  open  sore  " ;  and  it  seemed 
to  Robert  Saul  that  he  heard  his  brother's  blood 
crying  unto  him  from  the  ground  and  speaking  loudly 
of  work  left  undone.  Changing  his  plans  upon  the  in- 
stant, he  turned  and  followed  the  road  to  Bibe,  say- 
ing to  himself  that  he  would  dive  to  the  depth  of  this 
horrible  thing  and  thus  be  justified  in  preaching  against 
it.  That  journey  he  never  forgot.  He  met  thou- 
sands of  slaves,  shackled  and  lashed  together  with 
leather  thongs,  each  carrying  a  heavy  burden  above 
their  shackles.  Thus  they  were  driven  like  cattle, 
and  upon  inquiry  he  found  that  never,  under  any  cir- 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE          133 

cumstances,  did  more  than  a  very  small  percentage  of 
these  wretched  exiles  arrive  at  Bibe.  He  learnt  that 
this  traffic  in  human  flesh  was  carried  on  practically 
under  the  protection  of  the  Portuguese  Government. 
At  Bibe  the  remnant  of  the  traders'  stock  is  sold,  many 
slaves  being  possessed  by  the  officials,  who  buy  their 
concubines  there.  Determined  to  probe  the  sore  to 
the  bottom,  Mr.  Saul  joined  a  missionary  who  pro- 
posed to  cross  the  Quanza;  but  he  had  grim  reason 
to  regret  the  impulse  which  had  led  him  to  investigate 
this  iniquitous  traffic  in  flesh  and  blood.  Again  and 
again,  he  was  forced  to  turn  away  from  the  sights 
about  his  path:  again  and  again,  he  hastily  shut  his 
eyes  and  bent  his  head,  feeling  suddenly  sick,  as  some 
spectacle  abhorrent  to  the  sight  met  his  gaze.  Day 
after  day  slave  gangs  passed  them :  day  after  day  their 
hearts  were  wrung  by  the  sight  of  dead  and  decom- 
posing bodies  by  the  wayside.  Some  of  the  poor  crea- 
tures had  evidently  been  knocked  on  the  head;  others 
had  been  hamstrung  and  left  to  die.  Night  after 
night,  more  worn  out  by  the  horrors  of  his  journey 
than  by  the  arduous  travelling,  Mr.  Saul  laid  down 
upon  his  camp  bed,  only  to  find  that  restful  sleep  was 
utterly  out  of  the  question.  With  sickening  reitera- 
tion the  crack,  crack  of  the  slave  whip  seemed  to  din 
in  his  ears,  and  twice  he  started  up  and  rushed  out  of 
his  tent,  sure  that  he  heard  again  the  dull  thud  of  the 
club  upon  some  poor  victim's  back. 

One  night,  soon  after  crossing  the  Quanza,  he 
dreamed  and  suffered  as  he  dreamed,  for  he  witnessed 
once  again  the  saddest  sight  that  he  had  ever  seen — a 
young  and  comely  girl,  shackled  and  roped,  struggling 
wildly  in  her  chains,  mad  with  grief  and  pain;  now 


134         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

laughing  vacantly,  now  cringing  in  terror  before  the 
driver's  whip,  now  crying  for  the  loved  one  who  had 
dropped  upon  the  road!  Struggling  to  aid  her,  he 
awoke  to  find  his  travelling  companion  by  his  side. 

"  Why,  Saul,  your  cries  roused  me !  you  must  not 
let  that  incident  get  upon  your  nerves ;  it  does  no 
good.  God  grant  that  one  day  the  civilised  world  will 
awaken  to  its  terrible  sin  of  omission ;  meanwhile,  it 
will  not  help  matters  for  you  to  get  ill." 

Though  comforted  for  a  time  by  a  like  hope,  Mr. 
Saul  had,  after  his  return  to  England,  grown  dis- 
heartened. So  many,  upon  hearing  his  recital  of  that 
upon  which  his  eyes  had  looked,  had  exclaimed  sym- 
pathetically and  theorised  not  a  little  and  then — had 
gone  to  dinner  or  to  dance,  seemingly  untouched  by 
the  woes  of  a  tortured  race !  Once  he  thought  that  he 
had  really  made  an  impression,  and  in  an  important 
direction.  About  a  month  after  reaching  England  he 
had  met  an  old  college  friend,  who,  he  found,  held  an 
appointment  upon  the  staff  of  a  big  paper.  His  friend 
had  listened  quietly  and  had  asked  many  questions, 
finally  promising  to  "  take  it  up."  He  made  Mr.  Saul 
tell  him  in  detail  of  the  punishment  dealt  out  to  the 
slave,  who,  courting  death  in  the  bush  rather  than  life 
upon  the  plantations,  should  attempt  to  escape.  He 
had  looked  horrified,  while  Mr.  Saul  described  that 
which  he  had  himself  seen,  namely,  some  slaves  who, 
after  being  severely  "  palmatared,"  were  extended  be- 
tween four  posts  fixed  in  the  ground,  face  downwards, 
the  body  just  touching  a  barrel  placed  in  the  centre 
of  the  posts,  and  "  chocotteed  "  on  the  back. 

The  poor  creatures  had  fainted  several  times  while 
undergoing  the  torture,  and  all  the  other  slaves  were 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         135 

compelled  to  witness  this  terrible  scene.  Afterwards, 
their  bleeding  backs  were  washed  with  antiseptic,  and 
the  irony  of  the  thing  had  seemed  horrible  to  Mr.  Saul 
— an  action  which  was  a  disgrace  to  manhood,  white- 
washed by  an  "  antiseptic,"  the  product  of  civilisation! 
His  journalistic  friend  had  drawn  from  him  the  fact 
that  the  average  life  of  a  slave  on  the  plantation  is 
five  years ;  the  death  rate  being  very  high  owing  to  the 
pitiless  rule  of  the  masters.  And  then,  after  all,  his 
friend  had  put  the  matter  on  the  shelf  until  a  more 
convenient  season.  But  Robert  Saul  could  not  let  the 
thing  rest,  and  for  some  time  the  sights  and  sounds 
of  that  journey  in  Africa  were  apt  to  haunt  him  when 
he  returned  home  wearied  by  a  long  day's  work.  For 
the  blackness  of  man's  brutality  stood  out  in  his  mem- 
ory, sharply  silhouetted  against  the  surrounding  bright- 
ness of  the  scene,  where  torture  and  wanton  murder 
seemed  to  desecrate  the  purity  of  the  tropical  sun- 
light and  the  fair  beauty  of  nature. 

Upon  the  night  of  which  I  have  spoken,  Mr.  Saul 
lay  awake  long  after  his  companion  had  returned  to 
his  own  tent,  and  he  said  to  himself  wearily  that  he 
had  made  a  mistake  in  coming  to  Angola. 

He  had  left  England,  saddened  by  the  power  of  evil 
and  the  seeming  impotence  of  good,  and  he  had  thought 
to  find  refreshment  here,  among  new  scenes  and  in  a  less 
congested  atmosphere.  But  bitter  disappointment  met 
him  at  every  turn.  Indeed,  as  month  after  month  went 
by,  the  grim  fact  faced  him,  that,  in  this  land  of  fair 
forest  and  immense  space,  sin  in  foulest  form  held  sway. 
Vice,  less  educated  perhaps,  less  subtle,  but  vice,  which 
(alas !  that  it  should  be  so)  went  hand  in  hand  with 
the  advent  of  the  white  man,  was  here,  and  it  lowered 


136         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

both  black  and  white  alike  to  the  degraded  plane  of 
animality  and  hate. 

And  what  of  Robert  Saul's  months  of  desperate 
effort  and  self-sacrificing  toil?  True,  more  than  once 
his  work  had  been  seriously  interfered  with  by  a  sharp 
attack  of  malaria  which  even  his  robust  system  had 
failed  to  throw  off  completely.  But  he  was  not  the 
only  worker  there.  Others,  like  himself,  were  despon- 
dent as  they  reviewed  their  months  of  apparently  fruit- 
less labour,  and  saw  the  black  sinking  lower  under  his 
burden  of  slavery  and  shame,  and  worse  still,  the  white 
man  descending  from  his  own  estate  to  the  level  of  the 
beast.  It  was  therefore  with  a  feeling  of  relief  that 
Mr.  Saul  stood  one  day  upon  the  deck  of  the  homeward 
bound  mail.  He  had  just  despatched  a  cable  to  Lady 
Cecil  Gwynne  apprising  her  of  the  date  of  his  return. 
But  of  course  she  knew  that  date  and  knew  that  he 
would  not  be  one  hour  late.  Not  once  during  the  past 
eleven  months  had  he  heard  from  her,  for  upon  that 
point  she  had  been  firm  when  they  parted.  But  to  a 
constant  nature  such  as  Mr.  Saul's  a  deprivation  of 
this  kind  could  make  no  difference  in  the  growth  of 
his  love,  and  he  believed  that  Cecil  was  more  necessary 
to  him  now  than  ever  before.  Her  weak  and  crippled 
state  only  called  up  in  him  a  great  desire  to  wrap  her 
round  with  his  manhood's  strength  and  shield  her  life 
as  much  as  in  him  lay. 

Now  that  his  year  of  waiting  drew  near  to  its  close, 
he  found  himself  hungering  more  consciously  for  the 
touch  of  Cecil's  hand  and  more  determined  than 
before  that  nothing  should  ever  separate  them  again. 
He  smiled  as  this  thought  crossed  his  mind,  for  what 
could  separate  them  now?  He  had  been  tried  in  the 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         137 

fire  and  he  had  stood  the  test,  and  he — well — he  never 
had  doubted  that  at  the  year's  end  he  would  stand 
beside  Cecil  Gwynne,  and  marry  her  as  soon  as  might 
be.  And  so  that  voyage  was  not  an  unhappy  time 
for  Robert  Saul.  His  impatient  nature  found  it  hard 
to  await  the  first  sight  of  the  English  shore,  but  the 
goal  which  was  always  before  his  mental  vision  was 
worth  the  waiting,  and — it  was  the  last  time !  Nothing 
could,  nothing  should,  ever  separate  him  from  Cecil 
Gwynne  again. 


CHAPTER    XV 
THE  MIDNIGHT  CALL 

As  torrents  in  summer, 
Half  dried  in  their  channels, 
Suddenly  rise,  though  the 
Sky  is  still  cloudless 
For  rain  has  been  falling 
Far  off  at  their  fountains. 

So  hearts  that  are  fainting 
Grow  full  to  o'erflowing, 
And  they  that  behold  it 
Marvel  and  know  not, 
That  God  at  their  fountains 
Far  off  has  been  raining! 

— Longfellow. 

AND  what  of  Cecil  Gwynne  during  that  year  which 
Robert  Saul  spent  in  Africa? 

It  was  New  Year's  Day.  The  months  had  come 
and  gone  since  she  had  bidden  him  a  reluctant  fare- 
well, and  to-day  she  was  wondering  how  she  could 
have  sent  him  from  her  side.  Lady  Margaret  Courcy 
was  with  her  once  more,  and  kind  little  Miss  Beres- 
ford  too,  and  the  doctors  had  the  day  before  sug- 
gested that  they  should  telegraph  for  Lord  Brecon, 
who  was  in  London.  "  Was  there  danger  for  her 
life?  "  Margaret  Courcy  had  asked.  "  Ah,  no!  Milady 
would  live,  perhaps  for  years,  but  always  now  she  would 
suffer  more  and  more !  " 

141 


142         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

Cecil  was  told  nothing  of  this,  but  she  read  more  than 
they  intended  in  the  grave  faces  and  subdued  manner 
of  those  about  her.  That  evening  she  called  Margaret 
Courcy  to  her  and  insisted  that  she  should  immediately 
write  to  Lord  Brecon,  urging  him  to  obtain  for  her 
the  help  of  the  one  thing  which  had  not  yet  been  tried ; 
nor  would  she  rest  until  her  cousin  assured  her  that  the 
letter  had  been  written  and  despatched. 

But  two  days  later,  as  she  lay  in  her  bed  and  looked 
out  of  the  open  window  across  the  sea,  she  prayed  that 
death  would  hasten  his  steps,  and  thanked  God  the 
while  that  Robert  Saul  was  not  there  to  see  her  tor- 
ture of  soul  and  body.  For  that  was  the  awful  truth. 
Longing  for  the  release  of  death,  her  soul  was  yet  so, 
torn  by  doubt  and  fear,  that  at  one  moment  she  would 
cry  to  her  God  to  delay  the  dread  visitant,  and  the 
next  her  teeth  would  meet  in  deadly  pain,  while  the 
dew  of  agony  stood  upon  her  brow  and  a  voiceless  cry 
for  deep  oblivion  would  hold  her  silent  and  almost  still 
the  beating  of  her  heart. 

The  nurse  asked  gently  if  she  could  do  anything 
for  her,  but  she  paid  no  heed  to  the  soft  enquiry.  She 
looked  out  upon  the  bright  blue  of  the  sky  and  the 
deeper  blue  of  the  sea  and  saw  that,  where  the  sun 
kissed  the  wavelets  into  smiling  beauty,  the  waters 
gleamed  with  white  and  gold.  The  brightness  of  the 
scene,  all  eloquent  of  radiant  life,  seemed  to  mock  her 
prisoned  limbs,  and  the  living  death  which  bound  her 
where  she  lay  denied  all  peace  to  tortured  body  and 
troubled  mind. 

Lady  Margaret  Courcy,  rent  asunder  by  her  desire 
to  know  the  girl  at  rest  and  her  innumerable  doubts 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

as  to  whether  rest  did  indeed  await  her  beyond  the 
grave,  had  but  scant  comfort  to  offer.  Too  true  to 
voice  that  which  she  did  not  fully  believe,  she  was 
thus  forced  into  a  desperate  silence  as,  all  through  that 
terrible  day,  she  and  Miss  Beresford  sat  by  the  sick 
girl's  side. 

At  last  the  day  is  almost  done:  a  shadow  slants 
across  the  wide  terrace  below,  while  the  setting  sun 
sinks  down  amid  a  wealth  of  crimson,  green  and  gold. 
The  sea,  and  sky,  and  distant  mountain  peak  are 
flooded  with  a  glorious  light  beyond  the  pen  of  man 
to  paint,  till  suddenly!  the  heavens  and  the  earth  are 
drenched  in  blood,  as  the  roseate  of  the  sky  takes  on 
a  purple  hue  and  a  sanguinary  shadow  creeps  over 
the  sea,  thus  turning  its  gold  to  a  deep-toned  glow. 
And  now  the  wavelets  seem  to  leap  in  pain,  for  slowly 
across  the  moving  bosom  of  the  flaming  deep  there 
steals  a  harsh  whisper  of  woe,  as  the  sea  uprises  to 
slay.  Hark!  to  the  shrill  laughter  of  wind  kissing 
wave,  as  they  meet  in  unholy  wedlock!  Swift  heralds 
of  death  and  of  hell,  they  but  wed  as  the  harlot  doth 
wed,  to  couple  and  speed  on,  to  riot  and  to  die.  See! 
deep  darkness  falls  upon  the  earth,  as  the  heavens  are 
canopied  in  sudden  cloud ! 

With  cruel  dread  within  each  heart  and  fear  made 
manifest  upon  each  face,  the  silent  watchers  turn  to 
see  a  look  of  speechless  horror  in  the  stricken  woman's 
eyes — eyes  which  now  shine  dully,  like  twin  fires  burn- 
ing within  the  shadow  of  a  wild,  white  face,  all  be- 
clouded, all  befouled,  by  the  fearsome  fear  of  a  living 
death. 

Unable  any  longer  to  bear  the  sight  of  suffering, 


1441         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

which  she  could  not  mitigate  and  which  months  ago 
the  most  powerful  opiates  had  almost  failed  to  re- 
lieve, Margaret  Courcy  left  her  cousin  in  the  care  of 
Miss  Beresford  and  the  nurse  and  watched  the  long 
night  through  in  solitude.  But  even  there,  though 
room  and  corridor  divided  them,  faint  moans  still 
reached  her,  and  she  knew  that  Cecil  was  being 
dragged  across  the  rack  by  the  devilish  power  of  pain. 
Fleeing  before  the  piteous  sound,  she  threw  open  her 
window  and  stood  upon  the  balcony  without. 

"  Dear  God !  "  she  cried  aloud,  "  have  pity  and  send 
her  peace!  Oh,  Death!  come  quickly  and  give  her 
rest ! "  But  even  as  her  heart  sent  forth  the  cry,  a 
strange  new  thought  checked  a  repetition  of  the  words 
and  held  her  dumb.  Shocked  beyond  measure,  she 
asked  herself,  what  had  she  done?  What  was  it,  that 
suddenly  she  seemed  to  herself  to  be?  Surely,  in 
thought  she  had  been  guilty  of  the  great  offence! 
Surely,  she  must  in  secret  brand  herself  with  the  brand 
of  Cain ! 

Moved  by  a  rapid  and  strong  revulsion  of  feeling, 
she  threw  herself  upon  her  knees  and  prayed  a  wordless 
prayer — a  prayer  mighty  in  its  desperate  desire,  and 
strong  in  the  strength  of  its  new-born  hope.  Now, 
as  she  knelt  and  prayed,  the  storm  without  became  a 
holy  calm,  and  from  the  vast  dome  above  the  gentle 
beams  of  a  sickle  moon  shed  softest  light  upon  earth 
and  sea;  while  impotent  matter,  its  vain  babblings  all 
hushed,  lay  quiet  and  quelled  by  Harmony's  breath, 
thus  heeding,  as  ever  earth  must,  Mind's  heavenly  law 
of,  "Peace  be  still!" 

Hour  after  hour  Margaret  Courcy  knelt  there,  her 
face  upheld  towards  the  quiet  sky,  the  wealth  of  her 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         145 

hair  and  the  white  of  her  robe  bathed  in  purest  light. 
Nor  did  she  move  when  the  morning's  breeze  came  over 
the  sea  and  gently  raised  the  dark  tendrils  off  her  brow, 
as  it  wound  its  way  caressingly  about  her  form. 

As  the  dawn  rose  into  day,  her  thought  grew  fixed 
to  God  and  Life,  till  her  soul  was  possessed  by  a  great 
desire,  and  a  strange  new  peace  controlled  her  mind. 
Then,  as  the  brilliant  sun  arose,  her  heart  uplifted 
with  a  heaven-sent  prayer,  and  she  asked,  in  the  silence 
of  a  wondrous  hope,  that  Cecil  should  live, — live,  and 
somehow  overcome  the  demon  pain ;  live,  and  somehow 
rise  above  the  thraldom  of  the  flesh  into  newness  of  life 
with  God. 

While  Margaret  Courcy  was  keeping  her  lonely  vigil 
throughout  the  night,  Cecil  Gwynne  lay  in  the  grip 
of  a  deadly  terror,  worse  by  far1  than  the  fear  of 
death.  "  I  shall  go  mad ! "  she  cried  in  her  heart. 
"  I  shall  go  mad,  if  they  do  not  stop  this  pain !  "  And 
now  it  seemed  that  two  people  whispered  by  her  side! 
The  one — her  dress  was  made  of  glass,  her  apron  of 
white  paper,  and  her  nurse's  cap  was  tall  and  brown 
and  made,  it  seemed,  of  cork ;  and  across  her  breast  was 
written,  in  letters  large  and  black  and  clear,  "  The 
DRAUGHT !  "  The  other  woman,  once  beautiful,  but 
twisted  now  and  torn  by  pain,  lay  prostrate  on  the  bed 
beside  her.  Now,  that  one  all  made  of  glass,  bent 
over  that  prostrate  form  and  spoke  soft  words  of  un- 
conscious blasphemy.  "  Drink  of  me,  and  *  I '  will  give 
you  rest ! " 

"  Rest ! "  the  woman  wailed  in  piteous  bewilderment. 
"  Rest!  tell  me  what  is  rest?  I  have  forgotten !  " 

"Rest,"  and  the  one  of  glass  bent  low  beside  her; 
"  oh,  rest,"  she  said,  "  is  sleep,  forgetfulness  of  pain." 


146         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

"  You  never  gave  me  that,"  the  other  moaned,  "  for 
always  the  devil  pain  haunts  my  every  dream !  " 

And  now  the  one  of  glass  bent  lower  still  and  turn- 
ing whispered  subtle  falsity  within  the  woman's  ear. 

"  Drink !  "  the  whisper  seemed  to  fill  the  air.  "  Drink 
deeper,  deeper  yet,  and  I  will  give  you  perfect  rest  from 
pain — deep  oblivion,  see !  "  and  a  hand  all  cold  and 
white  and  fleshless,  made  of  glass — or  was  it  of  dead 
men's  bones? — shot  out  and  pointed  to  the  nurse's 
chair.  "  See,  she  sleeps !  and  she  forgot  to  measure  me 
to-night !  See !  I  am  tall  and  full  of  that  which  will 
still  your  pain  forever  and  forever!  Kiss  me,  kiss  me 
long ;  and  kissing,  drink  of  me !  " 

The  woman  raised  her  hand  to  take  the  cap  from  off 
the  other's  head,  when  Cecil  turned,  and  turning  saw 
that  prostrate  woman's  face.  Was  it  her  own,  this 
ghastly  thing  beside  her — this  white  wan  shadow  of  the 
past,  torn  by  pain  and  twisted  into  knotted  nerves? 
Is  this  the  face  of  Cecil  Gwynne?  God's  pity!  was 
she  mad  ?  or  was  this  truly  Cecil  Gwynne  ?  She  tried  to 
shout  aloud,  but  her  lips  were  sealed,  it  seemed!  She 
tried  to  flee  the  horrid  sight,  but  her  limbs  were  bound, 
it  seemed!  Bound!  and  were  these  grave  clothes  that 
wound  her  round  and  round?  Prisoned,  helpless,  hope- 
less— almost  mad.  .  .  .  She  lay  there  muttering 
in  the  agony  of  wild  delirium ! 

And  now  another  form  crept  up  to  her,  and  pitying 
eyes  looked  into  hers — the  face  was  the  face  of  Robert 
Saul,  but  the  form  was  the  form  of  Death !  "  Drink !  " 
and  the  voice  was  the  voice  of  Robert  Saul,  but  the 
hand  held  out  was  the  hand  of  Death. 

"  Drink,  beloved,  drink,  for  I  cannot  bear  to  see  your 
pain."  Ah — a — a!  Whence  came  that  mocking 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         147 

laughter  that  raced  its  way  around  her  bed?  or  was 
it  her  own  wild  cry  for  peace? 

"  P — a— i— n,"  she  muttered,  "  P— a— i— n  !  "  And 
now  the  mocking  laughter  ceased,  for  a  new  form  stood 
beside  her  bed.  New !  ah,  no !  She  had  seen  it  oft  be- 
fore, for  was  she  not  wedded  to  its  vileness,  forever  and 
forever,  even  until  death  should  them  part?  A  phan- 
tom form,  its  garments  made  of  woe!  And  across  its 
heart,  the  signet  of  despair.  She  knew  it,  this  phantom 
form,  and  knew  its  name  was  AGONY !  And  now  it 
bent  beside  the  bed,  and  pressed  a  drill  upon  her  brow 
and  wound  it  round  and  round  again,  right  through 
the  temple  and  the  bone;  right  through  the  nerve  it 
bored  its  hellish  way,  and  still  the  phantom  wound  it 
round  and  on.  There!  it  was  fixed  and  firm,  and  now 
it  took  a  white-hot  wire  and  bound  it  tightly  round 
her  spine  and  left  that  there.  .  .  .  And  still  she 
lived,  and  still  the  nurse  slept  on!  .  .  .  And  now 
he  took  her  in  his  arms,  this  phantom  form,  and  nailed 
her  on  a  cross  all  made  of  pain ;  "  To  bring  you 
nearer,"  he  whispered  softly,  "  to  your  God ! " 

"  Ah — a — a !  "  she  said  through  silent  lips,  "  the 
way  to  Heaven  is  surely  paved  with  hell  and  seems  to 
darken  all  my  thought  of  God !  " 

And  still  she  lived!  .  .  .  And  still  the  nurse 
slept  on! 

Ha !  she  knew  a  way,  fool !  thrice  fool !  not  to  have 
taken  it  before ! — that  precipice,  of  which  her  maid  had 
spoken  upon  a  summer  day!  That  precipice!  so  high 
above,  so  deep  below,  that  none  could  hope  to  live  who 
leaped  from  off  the  brink.  Now!  now  while  the  nurse 
still  slept,  she  would  be  up  and  doing!  But  softly, 
silently,  or  she  would  be  caught  and  nailed  upon  the 


148         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

cross  again.  Hush !  the  nurse  stirred !  No  matter,  she 
would  hasten  and  be  done,  she  would  flee,  quicker! 
quicker !  than  any  could  pursue !  Now  rushing  torrents 
roared  above  her  head  and  cruel  monsters  of  the  deep 
dragged  her  below  the  wildly  raging  waves ;  and  now 
the  nurse — or  was  it  some  great  sea  serpent? — bound 
her  round  and  round  with  giant  cords  of  fantastic  slimy 
growth.  But  why  were  they  white,  like  grave  clothes? 
or  was  it  the  sheets  upon  her  bed?  Why  were  they 
red  like  bands  all  made  of  fire?  why?  .  .  .  Ah! 
now  the  end! 

But  .  .  .  Margaret  was  calling  to  her!  Mar- 
garet was  parting  the  waters  above  her  head,  and  now 
they  roared  no  longer,  but  lapped  softly, 
softly  upon  a  sunny  beach.  Dear  God !  she  was  at  rest 
at  last,  for  Margaret's  strong  arms  were  round  her 
limbs,  and  Margaret's  soft  hand  guided  her  head  and 
gently  pillowed  it  upon  her  breast;  and  Margaret's 
voice  was  calling  to  her,  calling  softly,  sweetly,  as  the 
wild  dove  cooing  calls  to  its  mate  in  early  spring.  And 
now  a  voice — was  it  the  voice  of  Margaret? — sang  a 
solemn  chant  from  the  days  of  long  ago. 

"  Peace  I  leave  with  you,  my  peace  I  give  unto 
you:  not  as  the  world  giveth,  give  I  unto  you.  Let 
not  your  heart  be  troubled,  neither  let  it  be  afraid." 

When  came  this  great  and  holy  calm?  Was  it  born 
of  the  song  which  Margaret  Courcy  sang? 

"  Soft  and  low,  sweet  and  clear, 
Love's  message  rose  and  fell  upon  the  air." 

Whence  came  this  sweet  sense  of  rest  that  stole  into 
her  heart  and  chased  the  earth-clouds  all  away  ? 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         149 

She  did  not  know;  she  did  not  seek  to  know;  she 
was  content  to  rest,  with  this  sweet  angel  nestling 
like  a  gentle  dove  upon  her  breast  and  loosening,  with 
its  touch  divine,  the  fetters  which  bound  her  limbs  in 
hell. 

**  Soft  and  low,  sweet  and  clear, 
Love's  message  rose  and  swelled  upon  the  air." 

And  now  she  slept,  and  sleeping  smiled,  as  does  a 
healthy  child  upon  its  mother's  breast. 

The  Lady  Margaret  Courcy  rose  and  looked  upon 
her  cousin's  face,  and  looking,  wondered  at  its  joy. 
Then  walking,  as  one  walks  upon  the  long  untrodden 
way,  she  passed  from  room  to  room,  then  up  a  steep 
and  narrow  stair  and  outwards  through  an  arched  stone 
door,  until  she  stood  beneath  the  open  sky.  Whence, 
she  asked,  had  come  this  wondrous  calm?  As  some 
sweet  echo  from  the  past  steals  into  the  heart  of  one 
to  whom  the  future  has  for  long  been  blank,  and  fills  it 
with  the  fragrance  of  a  long- forgotten  joy,  she  had 
heard  the  words  she  sang,  as  they  fell  upon  the  air; 
but  she  had  not  felt  their  advent  nor  voiced  them  con- 
sciously ;  nor  did  she  yet  fully  understand  from  whence 
they  came  nor  know  that  they  had  lain  dormant 
throughout  the  weary  years,  until  the  time  of  God's 
appointing.  Long  ago  she  had  homed  within  her  heart 
a  tiny  seed.  Now,  though  she  knew  it  not,  the  rain 
had  fallen,  the  sun  had  shone,  and  lo ! — the  flower 
stood  revealed ! 

There  are  words,  the  overflowing  rhythm  of  an 
eternal  harmony,  which,  seeming  to  strike  roughly 
upon  the  unready  ear,  there  rouse  discordant  thought 
to  active  self-assertion,  till  it  cries  aloud,  "  It  thun- 


150         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

ders."  Yet  the  self-same  word,  at  the  self-same  hour, 
will  sweep  softly  across  the  waiting  heart,  and  touch 
it  to  a  strange  new  strength,  waking  sweet  memories  in 
the  receptive  mind,  attuned  to  Truth's  heavenly  call  by 
holy  thought  and  high  desire.  Thus  it  was  with  Mar- 
garet Courcy  now.  She  had  long  been  journeying 
towards  that  "  open  door "  which  no  man  can  shut, 
and  now  she  stood  waiting  before  Truth's  heavenly 
portal.  In  time  will  come  to  her  the  further  call,  and 
then  shall  she  pass  on  into  that  city  which  "  lieth  four- 
square " — that  city  which  hath  "  no  need  of  the  sun, 
neither  of  the  moon,  to  shine  in  it:  for  the  glory  of 
God  did  lighten  it,  and  the  Lamb  is  the  light  thereof." 
And  those  who  tread  its  streets  of  gold  learn  that 
within  these  walls  there  is  no  night.  This  New  Jeru- 
salem !  What  is  it  but  a  high,  wide  plane  of  thought — 
that  "  holy  ground  "  upon  which  man  must  stand  to 
meet  his  God,  ere  he  can  commune  with  eternal  Good? 
That  fair  broad  city  set  upon  a  hill!  Surely  the 
measure  of  it,  is  measureless  Infinity :  surely  the  fulness 
thereof,  is  the  substance  of  Immortal  Mind,  while  Love 
alone  is  King! 


CHAPTER    XVI 

NEWNESS  OF  LIFE 

Ring  out  old  shapes  of  foul  disease, 
Ring  out  the  narrowing  lust  of  gold; 
Ring  out  the  thousand  wars  of  old, 
Ring  in  the  thousand  years  of  peace, 
Ring  in  the  valiant  man  and  free, 
The  eager  heart,  the  kindlier  hand; 
Ring  out  the  darkness  of  the  land, 
Ring  in  the  Christ  that  is  to  be. 

— Tennyson. 

THREE  weeks  had  passed  since  that  morning  upon 
which  Lady  Cecil  Gwynne  had  found  sudden  relief 
from  the  pain  which  had  haunted  her  life  for  so  long. 
Three  wonderful  weeks!  For  during  that  short  space 
of  time  she  rose  above  the  sickness  which  had  seemed 
to  her  to  be  worse  than  death,  and  entered  into  the 
exultation  of  new-found  health  and  strength. 

To-day,  she  sat  in  the  garden  under  the  shade  of  a 
beautiful  pergola,  over  which  grew  a  luxuriant  cover 
of  creeping  roses,  now  in  full  bloom.  The  Duchess 
of  Westmoreland  was  beside  her  and  spoke  of  many 
things  which  sounded  strange  indeed  to  her  ear,  but 
brought  great  peace  to  her  heart. 

"  As  you  know,"  the  Duchess  said,  "  your  brother 
was  with  us  in  London  when  Lady  Margaret's  letter, 
asking  him  to  obtain  Christian  Science  treatment  for 
you,  arrived.  He  told  us  that  you  had  asked  him  to 
do  so  once  befbre,  but  that  his  own  prejudice  against 


152         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

it  was  very  strong.  He  had  heard  that  it  was  through 
the  help  of  Christian  Science  that  my  husband's  life 
was  saved  some  years  ago,  but  he  had  not  believed  it 
and  had  no  idea  that  we  had  become  workers  in  the 
Cause.  After  a  long  talk  with  my  husband,  however, 
he  immediately  put  your  case  into  the  hands  of  a 
practitioner.  We  were  of  course  able  to  direct  him 
to  the  proper  quarter  in  London,  and  we  were  not  at 
all  surprised  when  he  received  Lady  Margaret's  good 
news  a  few  days  later.  I  do  not  think,  however,  that 
he  quite  believed  it  until  he  actually  saw  you  sitting 
out  here  upon  our  arrival." 

Lady  Cecil's  face  was  very  grave,  but  the  hopeless 
look  of  sorrow  was  gone  from  her  eyes,  and  the  sickly 
hue  of  her  skin  was  yielding  to  a  warmer  tint. 

"  It  seems  almost  too  wonderful,"  she  said  softly ; 
then  added  firmly,  "  but  I  know  that  it  is  true." 

"  Yes,  it  is  true ;  "  her  friend  answered,  "  I  am  sure 
of  that.  My  husband's  life  was,  as  I  have  told  you, 
quickly  saved  by  Christian  Science,  but  the  disease 
was  not  eliminated  without  a  steady  fight  against  the 
false  beliefs  which  had  caused  it — a  fight  which  has 
left  us  both  higher  than  we  ever  hoped  to  stand,  before 
we  studied  this  most  practical  religion." 

And  so  they  talked,  and  the  minutes  sped  on;  and 
Cecil  never  wearied;  but  now  listening,  now  question- 
ing her  friend,  she  drank  in  this  glorious  gospel  of  de- 
liverance with  its  promise  of  redemption  from  sin,  sick- 
ness and  death. 

Upon  the  terrace  above  Lady  Margaret  walked  in 
quiet  converse  with  the  Duke.  More  calmly  she  lis- 
tened, as  he  poured  into  her  waiting  ear  the  new-old 
story  of  faith  passed  into  sight. 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE          153 

At  last  she  paused  and  said  in  a  voice  held  low  by 
the  greatness  of  the  thought  which  ruled  her ; 

"  I  thank  you,  Duke ;  I  know  that  this  of  which  you 
speak  to  me  is  indeed  the  Truth,  and  I  thank  you. 
You  have  given  me  back  my  dead,  but,  oh!  trans- 
formed beyond  my  highest  hopes  of  heaven.  For  how 
feeble  was  my  youthful  conception,  or  rather  miscon- 
ception, of  the  Truth!  I  see  that  I  had  to  loose  my 
hold  of  that,  before  I  could  search  clearly  for  the  Christ ; 
and  how  glorious  is  the  Christ  which  you  now  reveal 
to  me!  I  have  carefully  studied  the  book  you  sent  to 
us  day  and  night.  *  Science  and  Health  '*  is  truly  a 

*  Key  to  the  Scriptures  ' !     Now  with  Paul  I  can  say, 

*  I  count  not  myself  to  have  apprehended :  but  this  one 
thing  I  do,  forgetting  those  things  which  are  behind, 
and  reaching  forth  unto  those  things  which  are  before, 
I  press  toward  the  mark  for  the  prize  of  the  high  calling 
of  God  in  Christ  Jesus.' " 

"  It  is  useful  to  note  how  constantly  and  how  boldly 
Paul  strikes  the  note  of  progress,"  the  Duke  an- 
swered. "  It  is  the  law  which  all  must,  sooner  or 
later,  obey;  but  it  is  strange  how  reluctant  many  are 
to  obey  it,  dissatisfied  though  they  are  with  life  as 
they  find  it.  Once  again  the  healing  Christ  comes  to 
his  own,  and  once  again  his  own  receive  him  not;  but 
it  cannot  long  continue  thus.  Man  is  satiated  with 
sin,  sorrow,  sickness  and  death,  and  the  time  approaches 
when  the  human  mind  will  react — for  what  is  it  but  a 
pendulum? — and  demand  a  change.  But  the  misery 
of  mortal  man  has  yet  to  reach  its  height  and  depth! 
Harmony  here  on  earth,  here  and  now,  awaits  those 

*"  Science  and  Health  with  Key  to  the  Scriptures,"  by  Mary 
Baker  G.  Eddy. 


154         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

who,  having  ears,  will  hear — the  harmony  of  a  healthy 
mind  and  healthy  body;  the  harmony  of  sin  forgiven, 
because  destroyed;  the  harmony  of  the  one  Mind  and 
Man  as  the  reflection  of  that  one  Mind.  Paul's  words 
are  to-day  being  proved  by  thousands  of  happy  people 
to  be  literally  true ;  *  But  we  all,  with  open  face  be- 
holding as  in  a  glass  the  glory  of  the  Lord,  are  changed 
into  the  same  image  from  glory  to  glory,  even  as  by 
the  Spirit  of  the  Lord.'  And  what  are  these  words  ex- 
cept an  echo  of  those  spoken  of  man  '  in  the  beginning,' 
when  God  said,  '  Let  us  make  man  in  our  image,  after 
our  likeness'?  In  a  measure — a  measure  which  is  in 
exact  ratio  to  the  individual  understanding  of  omni- 
present Good — man's  spiritual  reality  is  demonstrated 
daily  in  Christian  Science." 

"  I  understand,"  Lady  Margaret  replied  thought- 
fully. "  In  Christian  Science  you  regard  Man  as  the 
perfect  work  of  a  perfect  God;  you  regard  him  as 
spiritual  and  unf alien ;  in  fact,  as  the  reflection  of  his 
Principle— God." 

"  Certainly,"  the  Duke  answered  gravely ;  "  for  we 
worship  a  God  of  good  and  good  alone;  a  God  who 
thinks  no  evil  and  could  never  have  created  it,  and  we 
read,  '  I  know  that,  whatsoever  God  doeth,  it  shall  be 
for  ever :  nothing  can  be  put  to  it,  nor  any  thing  taken 
from  it:  .  .  .  That  which  hath  been  is  now.'  If 
we  believe  the  Bible  at  all,  we  must  believe  that  all  which 
God,  Good,  created  is  eternally  good." 

"  It  is  a  beautiful  thought,"  his  companion  an- 
swered; and  her  face  was  full  of  joy  as  she  turned  and 
led  the  way  to  the  pergola  under  which  Lady  Cecil 
still  sat. 

And  as  the  days  passed,  Cecil  Gwynne  grew  more 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         155 

calm  and  strong  until  she  appeared  to  her  cousin  to 
be  not  only  her  old  self  again,  but  better.  She  grew 
gradually  more  loving  and  more  thoughtful  for  those 
around  her  than  she  had  been  even  in  the  past.  Soon 
they  began  to  talk  of  returning  to  England,  for  Lord 
Brecon  needed  his  sister's  help  in  London,  and  it 
seemed  wonderful  to  Lady  Cecil  to  think  that  she  could 
actually  be  of  use  in  the  world  once  more,  instead  of 
only  a  burden  and  constant  care  to  those  who  loved  her. 
Her  cure  was  not  yet  complete,  for  she  had  lain  too 
long  imprisoned  by  pain,  and  had  thus  formed  a  regu- 
lar habit  of  egotistical  thought  which  did  not  imme- 
diately yield  to  the  first  call  of  Truth.  But  slowly  and 
surely  the  renewal  of  the  mind  went  on  beneath  the 
transforming  touch  of  Love,  and  quite  steadily  the 
body  responded  to  the  awakening  thought.  Not  in  a 
moment,  however,  can  the  "  old  man  "  be  cast  off,  and 
yet  cast  off  it  must  be,  ere  the  "  new  man  "  can  be  mani- 
fested. Gradually,  for  lack  of  that  nourishment  which 
the  laws  of  invalidism  supply  to  the  "  natural  man," 
old  things  began  to  pass  away,  for  the  law  of  Good 
was  at  work  making  "  all  things  new."  Gradually, 
in  the  place  of  petulance  patience  reigned;  and  where 
excitement  formerly  held  sway,  the  calm  of  God  more 
often  ruled  her  life.  Thus,  as  the  sere  leaf  falls  off  for 
lack  of  food,  and  the  spring  growth  is  manifested  in 
all  the  joy  of  its  new-born  strength,  there  began  for 
Cecil  Gwynne  the  first  real  springtime  of  her  life — a 
spring  which  shall,  in  the  fulness  of  time,  pass  on  into 
that  eternal  summer  wherein  the  leaf  shall  never  fade 
nor  the  tree  be  for  one  moment  fruitless. 


CHAPTER    XVII 

EBB  AND  FLOW 

We  are  ne'er  like  angels  till  our  passion  dies. 

— Thomas  Dekker. 

"AND  when,"  said  Mr.  Saul,  "shall  we  be  married?" 

Lady  Cecil  Gwynne  threw  a  warning  glance  around. 

"  There  are,"  she  said,  "  quite  a  hundred  people  in 
the  room." 

"  I  am  aware  of  it,"  Robert  Saul  answered,  rather 
grimly. 

"  See,  Robert,"  Cecil  spoke  in  a  low  voice,  and 
quickly,  "  we  will  be  married  as  soon  as  ever  you  wish 
it,  after  you  have  heard  that  which  I  have  to  tell  you." 

For  an  instant  Mr.  Saul's  thought  flashed  uneasily 
back  over  the  past  year. 

"  What,"  he  asked,  "  can  you  possibly  have  to  tell 
me  that  could  hinder  our  marriage?  " 

"  Cecil ! "  Lady  Margaret  Courcy  touched  her 
cousin  upon  the  arm,  "  Brecon  is  looking  for  you ;  I 
believe  that  people  are  thinking  of  saying  '  Good- 
bye.' " 

A  look  of  relief  lighted  up  Mr.  Saul's  face,  as  he 
saw  guest  after  guest  shake  hands  with  their  host  and 
hostess. 

"  At  last !  "  he  said  to  Lady  Margaret,  "  I  shall  be 
able  to  talk  to  her.  I  have  come  over  four  thousand 

156 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE          157 

miles  on  purpose,  you  know ; "  and  he  smiled  im- 
patiently. 

"  I  am  very  much  afraid,"  Lady  Margaret  said 
gently,  "  that  you  will  not  be  able  to  see  my  cousin 
alone  to-night.  There  are  rather  exalted  guests  stay- 
ing in  the  house,  and  she  is  really  never  free.  You 
doubtless  saw  Lord  Brecon's  appointment  in  the  papers. 
Just  now,  when  London  is  full  of  the  nation's  guests, 
neither  he  nor  Cecil  have  a  moment  to  call  their  own." 

"  And  when,"  Mr.  Saul  demanded,  "  does  England 
empty  of  these  foreigners  ?  " 

"  Some  time  next  week,"  Lady  Margaret  answered 
as  she  moved  towards  a  departing  friend. 

Did  Lady  Margaret  Courcy  seriously  suppose,  Mr. 
Saul  asked  himself,  that  he  would  contemplate  waiting 
a  whole  week  for  an  hour's  conversation  with  Cecil 
Gwynne  ? 

His  year  of  roving  in  Central  Africa  had  cut  him 
free,  in  thought  at  least,  from  the  chains  of  conven- 
tional society,  and  he  was  for  the  moment  inclined  to 
dispute  its  claims. 

Five  minutes  later  he  stood  before  Cecil.  "  I  will 
call,"  he  said  distinctly,  "  at  eleven  o'clock  to-morrow 
if  that  is  not  too  early  for  you." 

There  was  that  in  his  manner  which  drew  attention 
and  brought  a  flush  to  Lady  Cecil's  cheek. 

Instantly  Lord  Brecon  broke  the  little  silence. 
"  Look  in,"  he  said,  "  at  luncheon ;  we  are  more  often 
at  home  then  than  at  any  other  time." 

Mr.  Saul,  sore  and  irritated  at  his  own  mistake,  took 
a  hasty  farewell  and  left  the  house  feeling  both  angry 
and  hurt.  Certainly,  he  decided,  he  would  not  make  an 
item  at  luncheon  in  Grosvenor  Square  the  next  day. 


158 

He  wished  to  see  Lady  Cecil  alone,  not  again  among  a 
crowd — a  number  of  strangers  whose  interests  were 
matters  of  no  moment  to  him.  He  had  reached  Eng- 
land only  that  afternoon,  and,  after  a  hurried  dinner 
upon  his  arrival  in  London,  had  dressed  and  at  once 
gone  round  to  Grosvenor  Square.  With  no  anticipa- 
tion of  seeing  Cecil,  for  the  hour  was  late,  he  had  still 
hoped  to  find  the  Earl  in  his  library,  and  to  have  thus 
obtained  some  news  of  her — news  for  which  he  had 
hungered  for  a  year.  His  surprise  was  great  when  he 
reached  Lord  Brecon's  house  to  see  lights  streaming 
from  every  window.  The  sound  of  music  proceeding 
from  the  drawing-room  told  him  that  a  reception  was 
being  held.  He  had,  however,  heard  of  Lord  Brecon's 
appointment  at  the  Foreign  Office  and  concluded  that, 
in  spite  of  his  sister's  ill-health,  he  was  obliged  to 
entertain.  No  doubt  Miss  Beresford  or  Lady  Mar- 
garet Courcy  had  taken  her  place  as  hostess. 

When  he  entered  the  ballroom  a  few  minutes  later 
and  saw  what  appeared  to  him  to  be  Cecil  Gwynne 
waltzing  to  the  soft  strains  of  a  string  band,  his  as- 
tonishment stayed  his  foot  upon  the  threshold  and 
riveted  his  gaze  upon  her.  That  Cecil  was  somewhere 
upstairs,  either  in  bed  or,  at  best,  upon  her  couch,  he 
never  doubted.  In  all  his  life,  however,  he  had  never 
seen  two  people  so  much  alike  as  was  the  girl  before 
him  to  the  woman  whom  he  loved.  Like,  and  yet  un- 
like !  for  looking  more  intently  at  her  Robert  told  him- 
self that  the  dancer  was  younger  and  more  beautiful 
than  Cecil.  There  was  also  something  in  this  woman's 
face  which  he  had  never  seen  in  the  face  of  Cecil 
Gwynne.  Just  what  this  something  was  he  could  not 
define,  but  he  was  distinctly  conscious  of  its  presence. 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE          159 

His  direct  gaze  drew  Lady  Cecil's  attention,  and 
immediately  she  crossed  the  room,  and  held  out  a  wel- 
coming hand. 

"  Then  you  got  my  letter,"  she  said.  "  I  was  afraid 
that  it  might  just  miss  you  in  Angola." 

"Your  letter?"  Mr.  Saul  repeated  stupidly;  "I 
don't  understand." 

"  Evidently  you  did  not  get  it,  and  that  is  why  you 
do  not  understand,"  Lady  Cecil  replied.  "  Never 
mind!  you  are  in  England  again  and — 

"  It  is  not  possible,"  Mr.  Saul  said,  with  slow  ut- 
terance, "  that  you  can  be  Cecil  Gwynne !  " 

A  bright  smile  lit  up  the  girl's  face.  "  Yes,"  she 
answered  softly.  "  My  letter  would  have  explained 
the — the  sudden  resurrection  which  so  astounds  you, 
but  evidently  you  missed  it." 

"  I  missed  several  of  my  letters  while  travelling  in- 
land: the  postal  arrangements  are  most  uncertain, 
and  of  course  I  did  not  expect  to  hear  from  you,"  Mr. 
Saul  answered. 

But  he  hardly  knew  what  he  said;  he  was  only  con- 
scious of  Cecil's  presence  by  his  side. 

"  Robert,"  Cecil  spoke  gently,  "  we  must  have  a 
quiet  talk  as  soon  as  possible.  I  will  come  to  you  the 
moment  that  I  can  get  free." 

An  hour  later  she  had  joined  him,  but  only  for  five 
minutes;  and  now,  as  he  walked  homeward,  Mr.  Saul 
was  swayed  by  strong  emotion,  and  his  feelings  were 
so  mixed  that  he  found  it  difficult  to  review  the  last 
few  hours  calmly. 

At  one  moment  his  heart  glowed  with  the  thought 
that  Cecil  was  well  again;  the  next,  his  jealous  nature 
ruled  him,  and  he  declared  that  she  no  longer  loved 


160         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

him,  for  surely  she  could  have  made  an  opportunity, 
had  she  really  desired  one,  for  a  quiet  conversation 
with  him.  Through  all  his  perturbed  thought  there 
ran  an  irritating  consciousness  of  something  of  which 
he  was  fully  sensible,  though  he  could  not  under- 
stand it — an  indefinable  change  in  Cecil,  to  which  he 
could  give  no  name. 

He  went  straight  to  his  room  and  wrote  a  long 
letter  to  her.  He  would  not  read  it  over,  for  he  was 
not  sure  that  he  should  send  it  if  he  did.  He  was 
perfectly  aware  that  it  was  an  unreasonable  letter. 
He  was,  absurdly  enough,  angry  with  himself  for 
writing  it  and  yet  obstinately  determined  to  send  it. 
Because  he  was  suffering,  he  acted  unfairly  both  to- 
wards himself  and  Cecil  Gwynne.  He  was  too  clear- 
headed not  to  know  that  he  was  so  acting,  but,  for 
the  moment,  he  allowed  himself,  strong  man  though 
he  was,  to  be  controlled  by  wayward  impulse.  That 
the  letter  expressed  a  passionate  exacting  frame  of 
mind,  he  did  not  fully  realise  and  would  by  no  means 
have  admitted,  even  to  himself.  After  posting  it, 
however,  he  wished  that  he  could  recall  every  word 
that  it  contained.  Indeed,  never  before  had  he  spent 
such  a  mauvais  quart  d'heure  as  that  which  he  en- 
dured while  awaiting  Lady  Cecil's  reply  the  next  morn- 
ing. Would  she  answer  at  all,  or  if  she  did,  would 
her  answer  be  such  as  he  could  bear  to  receive  from 
her?  He  spent  an  aimless  morning  walking  through 
the  Park  and  Kensington  Gardens,  and  twice  he  turned 
his  steps  towards  Grosvenor  Square,  but  decided  that 
it  would  be  both  unadvisable  and  useless  to  precipitate 
matters  in  any  way.  The  truth  was,  he  suddenly 
realised  that  he  never  had  had  complete  control  over 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         161 

himself  in  the  matter  of  his  love  for  Lady  Cecil 
Gwynne,  and  he  dared  not  risk  an  interview  until  he 
felt  that  he  could  hold  himself  completely  in  hand. 

It  was  one  o'clock  as  he  reached  his  hotel,  and  he 
knew  that  an  answer  to  his  letter,  if  despatched  by  re- 
turn, should  be  awaiting  him.  But  it  was  not  until 
he  found  that  there  were  no  letters  at  all  for  him  that 
he  understood  how  much  he  had  counted  upon  Cecil's 
immediate  reply.  At  luncheon  an  old  acquaintance 
hailed  him,  and  moved  his  seat  in  order  that  they  might 
be  at  the  same  table.  Mr.  Saul  wished  that  he  had 
ordered  a  meal  in  a  private  room,  for  he  felt  in  no 
mood  for  casual  conversation.  He  answered  his  friend's 
good-natured  enquiries  about  his  year  in  Central 
Africa  so  lamely  that  the  Rev.  Arthur  Northcut  not 
unnaturally  summarised  the  situation,  when  speaking 
to  a  mutual  acquaintance,  by  the  terse  remark,  "  The 
wretched  climate  has  ruined  him;  he  has  lost  all  his 
vigour." 

By  seven  o'clock  Mr.  Saul  could  wait  no  longer; 
he  would  surely  find  Cecil  at  home  just  before  the 
dinner  hour.  He  must  know  whether  she  still  cared 
for  him  or  not.  The  possibility  that  her  renewed 
strength  might  have  brought  with  it  some  change  in 
her  love,  weighed  upon  his  mind,  though  he  swore  to 
himself  that  such  a  thing  could  not  be.  He  had  been 
so  faithful  to  her  during  her  dark  hours,  and  she 
had,  he  knew,  so  noble  a  nature  that  it  was  not  possible 
that  she  should  esteem  his  devotion  lightly,  now  that 
the  sun  once  more  shone.  His  love  had  been  to  her  an 
unfailing  ray  of  light  through  her  long  night  of  pain 
and  weakness,  and  certainly  could  not  be  forgotten 
now. 


162         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

"  Her  ladyship  has  just  driven  out,"  the  footman 
said  in  answer  to  his  enquiry. 

"  When  is  she  expected  to  return  ?  "  he  asked,  with 
that  outward  calm  which  never  failed  him  in  the  pres- 
ence of  his  inferiors. 

"  I  will  enquire,  sir ; "  the  man  answered,  and  a  sec- 
ond servant  came  forward.  "  Her  ladyship,"  he  said, 
"  has  ordered  the  carriage  to  be  at  Marlborough  House 
at  half-past  ten." 

Sick  at  heart,  Mr.  Saul  turned  away.  "  Surely," 
he  muttered  bitterly,  "  surely  she  could  have  found 
time,  however  exacting  her  social  engagements  may 
be,  to  write  me  one  line ! " 

He  walked  slowly  back  to  his  hotel,  but  his  revul- 
sion of  feeling  was  so  great,  his  disappointment  at 
missing  Lady  Cecil  so  keen,  that,  though  he  found 
himself  glancing  towards  the  office  as  he  passed  through 
the  hall,  he  would  not  ask  if  any  letters  had  arrived 
for  him  during  his  absence.  A  third  disappointment 
was  more  than  he  felt  prepared  to  meet.  He  felt 
quite  worn  out  as  he  mounted  the  stairs  on  the  way 
to  his  bedroom,  and  wearily  concluded  that  the  last 
attack  of  malaria  which  had  caught  him  just  as  he 
left  Angola  must  have  weakened  him  more  than  he 
thought. 

"  A  letter  for  you,  sir !  " 

Mr.  Saul  turned  abruptly  and  took  the  note  which 
the  office  boy,  who  had  quietly  followed  him  up  the 
stairs,  held  out  to  him. 

"  Thanks." 

The  bedroom  door  was  shut  and  locked  hastily. 
This  Robert  Saul  gave  himself  time  to  do,  before  he 
tore  open  the  seal.  He  looked  at  the  first  line,  then, 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE          163 

with  hands  which  trembled  in  spite  of  the  strong  will 
which  would  have  had  them  still,  he  rapidly  turned  the 
letter  about  and  raced  his  eye  to  the  bottom  of  the 
last  page. 

"Thank  God!"  he  muttered  brokenly.  "How 
could  I  doubt  her!  I  never  will  again.  Nothing,  not 
even  a  thought,  shall  ever  come  between  us  again." 
Then,  still  a  little  shaken  by  the  emotion  which  ruled 
him  so  completely,  he  read  the  letter  through.  It 
was  very  short,  but  showed  no  sign  of  haste,  and  the 
writing  was  bolder  and  firmer  than  any  he  had  ever 
seen  by  Cecil's  hand  since  the  early  days  of  their  en- 
gagement. 

"  I  simply  have  not  one  hour,"  she  wrote,  "  to  call 
my  own,  until  next  week ;  but  on  Tuesday  our  guests 
start  for  the  Continent  and  I  shall  be  free.  Come 
at  eleven  o'clock,  but  of  course  I  shall  keep  the  whole 
day  for  you." 

He  was  a  little  disappointed  to  realise  that  it  was 
a  letter  such  as  might  have  been  read  by  anyone,  but 
no!  the  signature  told  him  many  things  of  which  Cecil 
would  never  have  spoken  to  another,  for  she  signed 
herself,  "  Lovingly  your  love — The  little  Lady  Cecil." 
Immediately  he  was  back  in  the  early  days  of  their 
courtship — days  when  it  had  been  new  to  him  to  walk 
beside  her  slender  form,  and  during  which  he  had  once 
told  her  that  "  the  little  Lady  Cecil  was  altogether 
too  young  and  too  small  to  have  such  a  strong  will 
of  her  own." 

Robert  was  ashamed  now  to  remember  the  miserable 
jealousy  and  self-inflicted  torture  which  he  had  en- 
dured for  so  many  hours.  His  imaginary  fears  and 
doubts  did  neither  Cecil  nor  himself  any  justice,  as 


THE     SEAMLESS    ROBE 

he  realised  fully  enough  now  that  he  reviewed  the  mat- 
ter calmly.  Well,  it  was  over:  and  he  put  the  little 
note  in  his  pocket-book  and  said  that  he  would  wait 
as  Jacob  waited  for  Rachel  if  need  be,  but  never  again 
would  he  allow  a  cloud  to  come  between  him  and 
Cecil  Gwynne.  Nevertheless,  he  hoped  that  the  next 
week  would  find  their  wedding  day  winging  its  way 
towards  them,  and  he  determined  to  leave  no  stone  un- 
turned to  bring  about  their  speedy  marriage. 

The  week  of  waiting  passed  quickly  in  spite  of 
some  rebellious  moments,  during  which  Mr.  Saul  looked 
askance  at  the  festivities  which  kept  him  from  Lady 
Cecil's  side.  They  met,  of  course,  but  only  in  the 
presence  of  others,  and  upon  the  whole  Robert  pre- 
ferred his  solitary  rambles  in  the  Parks,  illumined  as 
his  thought  was  with  bright  hopes  for  the  future. 
For  was  not  Cecil  stronger  and  better  in  health?  Yes, 
and  sweeter  and  gentler  in  manner  than  ever  he  had 
known  her.  Thus  his  mental  horizon  was  cloudless 
and  lighted  with  the  anticipation  of  a  greater  joy  than 
he  had  dreamed  life  could  ever  hold  for  him  again. 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

HUMAN  LIMITATIONS 

Remember,  when  the  judgment's  weak,  the  prejudice  is  strong. 

— O'Hara. 

MR.  SAUL  ran  lightly  down  the  steps  of  a  certain 
well-known  house  in  Arlington  Street.  H'is  interview 
with  one  of  His  Majesty's  Ministers  had  been  very 
pleasing,  for  he  had  that  morning  been  told  that  his 
name  was  mentioned  for  preferment  in  the  Church. 
That  he  owed  this,  in  a  great  measure,  to  the  fact 
that  a  warm  friendship  had  existed  for  half  a  lifetime 
between  his  own  father  and  the  Minister  in  question 
he  was  perfectly  aware,  but  he  did  both  this  dis- 
tinguished member  of  thfe  Cabinet  and  himself  the 
justice  to  believe  that  this  fact  alone  would  not  have 
had  the  necessary  weight,  had  it  not  been  linked  to 
the  high  reputation  which  he  himself  undoubtedly 
bore.  He  could  not  be  unaware  of  his  remarkable 
popularity  as  a  preacher,  and  he  knew  also  that  he 
was  considered  one  of  the  most  beautiful  readers  in 
the  English  Church.  Crowded  congregations  every 
Sunday  and  laudatory  articles  in  the  papers  had, 
before  he  left  England  for  Central  Africa,  pointed  to 
the  probability  of  his  rapid  advancement.  He  had 
not  expected,  however,  to  be  offered  a  bishopric  so 
soon,  and  it  was  particularly  pleasing  to  him  that  he 

165 


166         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

should  receive  the  intimation  of  this  honour  upon  the 
day  of  his  first  real  talk  with  Cecil  Gwynne.  He  quite 
intended  before  the  day  was  much  older  finally  to  de- 
cide upon  the  date  of  their  marriage;  and  he  further 
intended,  unless  Cecil  had  some  very  good  reason  to 
the  contrary  (and  he  did  not  for  a  moment  suppose 
that  such  could  be  the  case),  that  their  marriage 
should  take  place  almost  immediately. 

He  was  a  little  surprised  to  Ijear,  when  he  reached 
Grosvenor  Square,  that  her  ladyship  had  not  returned 
from  Victoria  Station,  where  she  had  driven  in  attend- 
ance upon  the  Princess. 

"  I  will  wait,"  he  told  the  servant,  and  the  man 
immediately  turned  and  led  the  way  upstairs. 

Left  alone,  Mr.  Saul  glanced  appreciatively  round 
the  beautiful  drawing-room.  The  conservatory  at  the 
further  end  was  filled  with  a  mass  of  bright  flowers; 
then  turning,  the  eye  was  refreshed  by  the  cool  green 
of  the  carpet,  and  the  delicate  white  and  gold  of  the 
panelled  walls.  Groups  of  Cecil's  favpurite  maiden- 
hair ferns  filled  the  deep  concavity  between  the  white 
pillars  which  supported  the  high  mantelpiece,  and  in 
their  midst  a  tiny  fountain  played.  With  a  sigh  of 
content  Mr.  Saul  lifted  one  of  the  silk  window  cur- 
tains aside  and  stepped  out  upon  the  balcony.  What 
a  contrast  to  the  cool  and  quiet  of  the  room  within! 
A  London  balcony  upon  a  hot  June  morning,  and  the 
noise  of  a  pleasure-seeking  world  all  around !  Very 
soon  he  retraced  his  steps,  for  he  had  seen  Lady  Cecil's 
motor  turning  the  corner  of  the  street.  She  had  kept 
him  waiting  a  whole  week  for  this  interview !  She 
should  not  find  him  too  complete  a  suppliant,  watching 
as  a  little  child  watches  for  the  mother  whose  coming 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE          167 

is  delayed.  He  would  stand  here  by  the  further  door, 
and  she  should  come  that  short  distance  across  the 
room  to  meet  him !  For  had  she  not  kept  him  waiting 
even  to-day? 

Presently  the  door  opened,  and  Cecil  was  before 
him.  Robert  drew  in  his  breath  sharply,  as  the  girl 
stood  there  quite  still.  Dainty  and  beautiful,  gowned 
in  cloth  of  palest  lilac,  which  swept  its  way  in  clinging 
folds  about  her  form  as  though  it  loved  to  touch  her, 
she  seemed  a  perfect  part  of  a  perfect  whole,  in  abso- 
lute harmony  with  her  surroundings,  which  immediately 
assumed  their  proper  value,  as  does  the  background 
of  a  picture  truly  painted. 

"  Look,"  she  said,  and  she  held  up  a  great  bunch  of 
white  lilac.  "  See  how  fresh  and  cool  the  petals  are, 
even  though  the  day  is  hot." 

She  lifted  the  flowers  high  and  smiled  with  eyes  and 
lips  as  she  leant  a  little  forward. 

But  she  did  not  come  one  step  towards  him. 

And  he  would  not  move. 

"  She  shall  come  the  length  of  the  room  to  meet 
me,"  he  whispered ;  while  the  laughter  shone  in  his  eyes, 
and  his  lips  pressed  tightly  the  one  upon  the  other; 
"  she  shall  come  the  whole  length  of  the  room,"  he 
breathed,  "  even  if  I  must  wait  a  little  longer." 

But  he  had  much  ado  to  stay  his  stride,  for  he  hun- 
gered to  imprison  the  brightness  and  the  joy  before 
him  within  a  strong  embrace. 

His  hand  shot  out  and  held  the  door  behind  him; 
but  he  did  not  move. 

"  Smell  them,"  she  said,  "  they  are  sweet  and  deli- 
cious, though  they  have  travelled  from  the  North," 
and  she  held  her  flowers  higher. 


168         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

"  Sweet  and  delicious."  The  words  possessed  him 
and  .  .  . 

"  Cecil ! "  he  cried,  and  his  voice  shook  upon  the 
word,  "  Cecil,  I  believe  I  have  waited  all  my  life  for 
this!" 

He  did  not  mean  to  be  rough — he  had  never  in  his 
life  been  anything  but  gentle  with  a  woman — nor  was 
he  now,  yet  the  girl  trembled  in  his  arms  and  turned 
white  beneath  his  lips ;  "  Robert !  "  she  cried,  "  wait, 
oh,  wait !  I  have  so  much  to  tell  you ! " 

"  So  much !  beloved,  so  much ! "  he  answered,  "  for 
it  is  a  year  and  a  week  since  we  have  spoken  together !  " 
And  now  he  knelt  and  placed  his  arms  about  her. 

"  Little  Lady  Cecil,"  he  said  in  a  voice  that  was 
of  itself  a  caress,  "  tell  me  that  you  love  me." 

"  Robert,  you  know." 

"  Dear  heart,"  he  answered  gently.  "  I  know,  yet 
tell  me." 

Then,  as  she  did  not  answer,  he  gravely  took  her 
face  between  his  hands  and  asked  upon  what  day  she 
would  become  his  wife.  And  still  she  did  not  answer, 
though  he  lifted  his  head  and  silently  asked  a  herald 
of  that  day.  But  she  did  not  give  it;  and  Robert, 
chilled,  rose  and  asked  her  rather  formally,  where  she 
would  be  seated. 

Then  at  last  she  answered  him,  but  slowly,  as  though 
it  was  not  easy. 

"  We  will  be  married  at  once,  if  you  still  wish  it — 
after  we  have  talked  together." 

"  If  I  still  wish  it,  Cecil  ?  For  years  I  have  wished 
it!  Do  you  dream,  silly  little  one,  that  there  is  ant/- 
thing which  you  could  tell  me,  that  could  possibly 
alter  a  wish  that  has  grown  with  my  mental  growth, 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         169 

until  it  is  part  of  my  inner  self?  "  He  spoke  pas- 
sionately again,  and  stood  eagerly  by  her  side,  impa- 
tient for  his  answer. 

But  Cecil  Gwynne  did  not  immediately  reply.  In- 
stead, she  walked  slowly  into  the  conservatory  and 
stood  there  for  so  long  a  time  and  so  still,  handling 
with  an  evidently  unconscious  touch  a  spray  of  ste- 
phanotis,  that  Robert  Saul  followed  her  at  last  and 
passed  her  by ;  then  turning,  he  stood  face  to  face  with 
her. 

"  There  5s  something  that  I  do  not  understand, 
which  has  come  between  you  and  me,"  he  said. 

He  spoke  quietly;  but  he  was  aware  that  to  stay 
the  tremble  of  his  hand,  he  needed  to  grasp  the  lapel 
of  his  coat,  and  his  musical  voice  broke  harshly  upon 
the  last  word  as  it  left  his  lips. 

Still  Cecil  did  not  answer;  and  then  it  was  that 
Robert  realised  that  the  demon  jealousy,  which  he 
had  thought  was  slain,  was  lying  only  dormant  in 
his  heart ;  for  now  it  rose  up  and  possessed  him ;  nor 
would  it  be  controlled. 

What  he  said  he  did  not  afterwards  remember,  but 
suddenly  Cecil  spoke  for  the  first  time  since  he  had 
given  his  passion  rein. 

"  Robert,"  she  said  sternly,  "  be  silent,  and  remem- 
ber that  to-day  I  have  allowed  you  to  put  your  lips 
upon  my  own.  That  is  the  only  answer  you  can  need 
to  your  wild  question,  Do  I  love  you?  " 

Ashamed,  he  held  his  peace  and  was  suddenly  calm, 
for  he  knew  that,  whatever  had  come  between  him  and 
Cecil  Gwynne,  it  could  not  be  the  love  of  any  other 
man. 

"  It  is  because  I  love  you,"  Cecil  continued,  "  that 


170         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

I  find  it  so  difficult  to  speak  about  the  great  change 
that  has  come  into  my  life  of  late." 

"  You  mean,  little  one,"  and  now  Robert  spoke 
softly  again,  and  very  kindly,  "  your  wonderful  restor- 
ation to  health.  But  why  should  it  be  difficult  to 
speak  of  that  to  me,  my  best  beloved?  You  surely 
know  that,  in  all  the  world,  no  one  can  rejoice  as  I 
rejoice  to  see  you  well  again." 

"  That  is  what  Brecon  said  at  first,"  Cecil  answered 
sadly,  "  now,  he  sometimes  speaks  as  though  he  would 
willingly  have  me  back  in  all  that  awful  pain." 

Robert's  face  wore  a  look  of  absolute  horror. 

"  Cecil,"  he  exclaimed,  "  what  can  you  mean  ?  He 
must  be  mad!  But  of  course  you  are  under  some 
misapprehension — your  suffering  was  terrible  to 
Brecon." 

"  I  know,"  she  answered  sadly,  "  but — well,  no  doubt 
he  will  explain  his  views  to  you  himself;  I  will  not 
speak  of  them;  for  I  cannot  understand  the  line  he 
takes." 

Robert  Saul  took  her  hand  and  held  it  gently. 

"  Little  one,"  he  said,  and  he  drew  her  towards 
a  chair,  though  he  himself  remained  standing,  "  I 
am  puzzled,  but  I  am  sure  that  I  can  help  you." 

"  You  can  help  me  more  than  anyone  in  all  the 
world,"  she  answered  eagerly,  "  if  you  will." 

"  If  I  will?  "  he  looked  astonished.  "  Why,  sweet- 
heart, what  is  there  that  I  will  not  do  for  you  ?  " 

Then  she  told  him.  Told  him  that  she  was  being 
lifted  from  the  darkness  of  pain  and  sickness  into  the 
marvellous  light  of  health  and  peace ;  that  she  was 
already  able  to  help  others  whom  she  found,  as  she 
herself  had  been  found,  hopeless  and  in  deepest  misery. 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         171 

Told  him  also  that  she  was  learning  to  love  a  God 
at  hand,  who  was  not  a  God  of  good  and  evil,  but 
a  God  of  good  and  good  alone.  She  told  him  of  the 
Christ,  who  was  now  becoming  to  her  an  actual  reality ; 
and  she  spoke  to  him  of  the  vital  Christianity  which 
had  become  the  motive  of  her  life. 

All  this  she  told  him,  and  much  more;  and  when 
she  ceased  to  speak,  when  she  had  said  all  that  she 
then  deemed  it  wise  to  say,  when  she  had  spoken  as 
much  as  she  thought  she  might  upon  the  subject  which 
now  ruled  her  life,  she  raised  her  eyes  and  saw  before 
her  a  face  of  stone!  And  she  read  the  future 
stretched  before  them  in  one  glance. 

"  You  will  of  course  give  up  this  fad  when  you 
marry  me,"  Mr.  Saul's  tone  was  both  cold  and  final. 

"  You  do  not  understand,"  she  answered  brokenly ; 
"  you  do  not  know  what  you  are  asking." 

Robert  Saul  smiled  contemptuously.  "  My  dear 
child,  it  is  you  who  do  not  understand.  I  know  all 
about  Christian  Science.  It  is  merely  one  more  of 
the  many  sects  which  have  sprung  up  of  late  years, 
only  it  is  more  pretentious  than  any  other,  and,  in 
short — a  blasphemous  creed.  Promise  me,"  he  added 
hastily,  "  that  you  will  give  it  up." 

"  I  cannot,"  she  said,  but  her  face  was  troubled. 
Robert  did  not  notice  this,  however,  as  he  poured 
out  upon  her  a  flood  of  passionate  protest.  She  had 
wrecked  his  life,  he  told  her,  and  he  would  far  rather 
have  seen  her  dead  than  a  blasphemer.  Now  they 
must  part,  for  he  would  not  see  her  again,  until  she 
wrote  and  told  him  that  she  was  prepared  to  take 
her  proper  place  as  a  Bishop's  wife. 

"A  Bishop?"  Lady  Cecil  asked. 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 


<Yes,"  Mr.  Saul  laughed  shortly;  "I  have  been 
mentioned  for  a  bishopric.  I  had  meant  to  tell  you, 
but  now — it  does  not  matter,"  and  he  turned  as 
though  to  leave  her. 

"  Robert,"  she  pleaded.  "  Oh,  wait ;  surely  there 
must  be  some  way  out  of  this !  Help  me  to  find  it." 

"  Of  course  there  is  a  way ;  it  only  remains  for  you 
to  take  it,"  he  answered  roughly. 

"  I  cannot  give  up  my  religion,"  she  replied  gently, 
"but,  Robert,  .  .  .  help  me  to  think.  Dear,  I 
love  you ;  help  me  to  think !  " 

"  Your  love  appears  to  be  of  a  whimsical  kind," 
he  answered  bitterly.  "  I  will  not  compete  with  a 
hysterical  fad:  when  it  has  worn  itself  out,  why — I 
shall  be  waiting." 

And  he  bowed  formally  and  closed  the  door  behind 
him — too  angry  to  realise  altogether  what  he  did. 

When  half-way  down  the  stairs  he  stopped  suddenly. 
The  struggle  with  wounded  pride  lasted  a  full  minute ; 
then  he  turned,  and  retracing  his  steps  he  re-entered 
the  drawing-room.  Cecil  was  sitting  quietly,  as  he 
had  left  her.  The  calmness  of  her  attitude  and  the 
reliant  look  upon  her  face  somehow  angered  him  anew. 

"  Cecil,"  he  asked  harshly,  "  if  I  have  seemed  rough, 
forgive  me.  I  love  you.  Once  more  I  ask,  will  you 
give  up  this  thing?  " 

She  rose  and  stood  before  him.  Almost  she  smiled; 
the  thing  he  asked  of  her  was  so  impossible.  For 
an  interval  of  time  which  seemed  to  Robert  a  long 
one,  they  faced  one  another  in  silence.  Then  Cecil 
Gwynne  gave  her  answer  in  a  manner  which,  though 
it  left  no  doubt  of  its  finality,  would  have  convinced 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE          173 

Robert,  had  he  been  calm  enough  to  judge  her  fairly, 
that  it  was  not  given  easily. 

"  Robert,"  she  said  evenly,  "  ask  rather,  can  I  give 
up  Christian  Science?  And  I  must  answer,  no;  I 
neither  can,  nor  should  I  dare,  to  turn  back  now  that 
Truth  has  called  me  and  bids  me  follow  wherever  it 
may  lead." 

"Truth,  child!" 

And  Robert  mocked  her  in  his  bitter  rage,  as  turn- 
ing, he  left  the  room  without  another  word. 

Could  she  have  seen  the  agony  in  his  face  as  he 
drove  home,  Cecil  would  have  understood  that  the 
man's  sense  of  duty  was  costing  him  dear.  One  week! 
and  he  might  have  held  her  in  his  arms,  his  wedded 
wife!  Now — Robert  shivered  from  head  to  foot.  He 
had  called  this  thing  "  a  fad."  He  had  essayed  to 
treat  it  as  a  girl's  weak  whim,  but  the  horrible  truth 
was  patent  to  him — Cecil  intended  to  adhere  to  Chris- 
tian Science.  She  had  only  said  a  few  words  in  answer 
to  his  violent  protest,  but  those  few  words,  he  now 
knew,  she  meant  to  be  final.  He  felt  her  self-possession 
as  a  rebuke,  and  realised  that  it  was  he  who  had  spoken 
angrily;  it  was  he  who  had  occupied  a  position  of 
doubtful  dignity:  and  this  made  him  the  more  bitter. 
Deeply  despondent,  he  entered  his  hotel  and  went 
straight  to  his  own  room,  remaining  there  for  hours. 


CHAPTER    XIX 

SELF-DECEPTION 

'Tis  pride,  rank  pride,  and  haughtiness  of  soul; 
I  think  the  Romans  call  it  stoicism. 

— Addison. 

DURING  the  weeks  that  immediately  followed  his  rup- 
ture with  Lady  Cecil  Gwynne,  Mr.  Saul  said  to  himself 
every  day  that  she  would  surely  write  to  him,  for 
he  argued  hopefully,  that  he  only  needed  to  give  her 
time  in  order  that  she  might  realise  that  his  love  was 
more  necessary  to  her  than  this  new  interest.  He 
deliberately  designated  her  embrace  of  Christian  Science 
as  a  mere  phase,  which  must  pass  the  more  rapidly 
now  that  she  was  faced  with  so  momentous  a  choice. 
Not  once  did  it  occur  to  him  that  he  should  alter  his 
views.  It  was  unnatural  to  him  to  give  way,  and  it 
had  become  a  habit  with  him  to  expect  others  to  do 
so  instead  should  an  impasse  arise.  He  had  always 
regarded  women  as  the  weaker  sex,  mentally  as  well 
as  physically,  and  it  was  inconceivable  to  him  that 
any  woman  should  pit  herself  against  him  in  a  matter 
of  this  sort.  Not  that  Cecil  Gwynne  was  doing  any- 
thing of  the  kind,  for  though  the  personal  element  in 
the  affair  necessarily  presented  itself  to  her,  the  matter 
was  in  her  eyes  far  above  the  mere  measuring  of  swords 
with  Robert  Saul.  But  of  this  he  knew  nothing,  and 
it  was  therefore  not  unnatural  that,  as  the  weeks  passed 

in 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         175 

and  brought  no  communication  from  Cecil,  he  should 
conclude  that  she  had  ceased  to  care  for  him. 

Over  and  over  again  Robert  reviewed  their  inter- 
view. That  hour  had  been  fraught  with  intense  pain 
for  him.  How  came  it  that  Cecil  had  been  so  calm? 
Did  she  not  feel,  even  then,  the  severing  of  the  tie 
which  bound  them?  It  seemed  that  she  must  have 
support,  of  which  he  did  not  know;  or,  was  it  simplv 
that  she  never  had  loved  him  as  he  counted  the  love 
of  man  and  woman?  Fiercely  jealous  of  that  which 
he  could  not  understand,  perplexed  by  the  intangibility 
of  that  which  had  defeated  him — and  which  he  dimly 
felt  to  be  his  master,  though  he  could  find  no  name  for 
it, — he  resented  Cecil's  calmness  and  construed  it  as 
a  sign  of  indifference.  Formerly  he  had  read  her 
like  a  book,  but,  since  his  return  from  Central  Africa, 
he  was  distinctly  aware  that  she  had  acquired  an  inward 
serenity  which  puzzled  him,  for  it  evaded  his  attempt 
at  mental  dissection.  With  the  injustice  of  a  hasty 
nature  he  now  condemned,  as  heartless,  conduct  to 
which  he  could  not  find  the  key.  He  rushed  himself 
into  a  condition  of  mind  unworthy  of  his  clearer  judg- 
ment, deciding  that  Cecil  was  neither  less  nor  more  than 
a  coquette — unworthy  of  the  love  which  he  had  so  gen- 
erously lavished  upon  her.  With  an  obstinate  despera- 
tion, born  of  the  bitter  pain  and  deep  humiliation  which 
governed  him  in  this  matter,  he  set  himself  deliberately 
to  work  to  separate  his  thought  from  her,  and  en- 
deavoured to  keep  steadily  before  him  the  probability 
that  their  future  lives  would  be  lived  apart.  He  real- 
ised that  they  would  inevitably  meet  occasionally  in 
the  house  of  some  one  or  other  of  their  mutual  acquaint- 
ances, but  obviously  such  chance  meetings  would  be 


176         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

meaningless  to  them  both.  That  Lady  Cecil  Gwynne's 
self-control  could  be  trusted  to  sustain  her  safely  in 
any  such  chance  meeting  he  knew.  She  would  talk  to 
him  at  dinner  or  receive  her  tea  from  his  hand,  should 
the  occasion  arise,  without  betraying  to  a  watching 
world,  tiptoeing  in  its  curiosity,  one  single  heart-beat. 
And  so  he  sought  to  resign  himself  to  a  future  from 
which  all  the  light  had  fled,  and  which  seemed  to  hold 
within  its  years  no  hint  of  joy  for  him;  a  future  so 
bereft  of  all  that  made  life,  in  his  eyes,  seem  worth 
the  having,  that  it  was  strange  that  he  should  not  have 
unbent  somewhat  and  gone  out  a  little  way  towards 
the  achievement  of  a  mutual  understanding. 

But  any  such  course  would  have  been  quite  foreign 
to  his  nature,  and  also,  he  thought  himself  to  be 
stronger  than  he  really  was,  and  supposed  himself  to 
be  as  capable  of  living  without  love  as  were  others 
whom  he  knew.  And,  all  the  time,  the  man's  great 
necessity  was  to  love  and  to  be  beloved.  Thus  a  per- 
petual tempest  raged  within  him,  and  he  made  very 
little  effort  to  still  it  but  allowed  it  to  drive  him  whither 
it  would.  Once,  for  a  pregnant  moment,  he  anchored 
his  thought  to  the  year  that  he  had  spent  in  peaceful 
seclusion  at  St.  Anselm  and  asked  himself,  should  he 
return  and  take  the  final  vows  by  which  he  might  still 
govern  his  life?  But  he  became  aware  that  he  now 
quite  consciously  rebelled  against  a  rule  so  circum- 
scribed ;  and  it  was  then  that  there  formed  in  his  mind 
the  determination  to  spend  his  life  among  the  stress 
and  strain  of  a  needy  world.  To  this  determination 
he  looked  back  with  gratitude  in  after  years — years 
which  saw  in  Robert  Saul  the  ripening  of  a  more  stal- 
wart manhood  than  ever  would  have  been  his,  had  he 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE          177 

returned  to  St.  Anselm's  and  allowed  himself  to  be- 
come the  tool  of  the  human  will  and  the  obedient  serv- 
ant of  a  dogma  narrowed  by  rule  and  formula. 

But  as  the  days  passed  into  weeks,  and  still  he  heard 
nothing  from  Cecil  Gwynne,  pride  so  possessed  him 
that  he  deliberately  essayed  to  efface  her  altogether 
from  his  mind,  and  threw  himself  energetically  into  the 
maturing  of  new  plans  from  which  she  was  necessarily 
excluded. 

As  the  weeks  passed  on  to  months  the  world  grew 
weary  of  asking  the  question  to  which  his  stern  face 
made  no  reply,  and  was  forced  to  content  itself  with 
twenty  versions  of  his  story — all  incorrect. 


CHAPTER    XX 

MENTAL  FERMENTATION 

Lead  kindly  light,  amid  the  encircling  gloom, 

Lead  Thou  me  onl 
The  night  is  dark,  and  I  am  far  from  home — 

Lead  Thou  me  on ! 
Keep  Thou  my  feet!  I  do  not  ask  to  see — 

The  distant  scene — one  step  enough  for  me. 

— John  Henry  Newman. 

AND  what  of  Cecil  Gwynne? 

After  Robert  Saul  left  her,  she  stood  for  a  moment 
in  the  middle  of  the  room;  then  turning  she  left  it 
and  hastily  entered  her  boudoir. 

For  hours  she  remained  there  seeking  peace.  Surely, 
she  cried  in  her  heart,  God  would  never  ask  of  her 
so  great  a  sacrifice  as  this?  Surely,  surely,  He  had 
not  granted  her  the  magnificent  joy  of  renewed  health, 
only  now  to  dash  the  cup  of  gladness  from  her  lips, 
refusing  her  the  one  thing  needful  to  the  completion  of 
her  happiness.  "  I  cannot  bear  it,  I  cannot  bear  it," 
she  cried  aloud.  "  I  cannot  give  him  up.  Ask  any 
other  thing  of  me!  Ask  all  my  wealth!  all  that  men 
deem  most  desirable,  but  leave  me  this ! " 

Passionately  she  prayed,  pouring  out  the  sorrow 
which  possessed  her.  Still  no  comfort  came;  still  the 
way  was  altogether  dark. 

Twice  her  maid  ventured  to  knock,  and  twice  was 

178 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE          179 

sent  away.  Twilight  passed,  and  the  night  was  there, 
and  still  she  wept  and  prayed.  Tempest-tossed,  now 
driven  here,  now  there !  now  well-nigh  lost  beneath 
the  surging  seas  of  sense ;  now  terror-struck  at  the 
darkness  of  the  clouds,  which  hung  so  low  around  her 
head  and  curtained  all  her  vision  with  a  veil  of  night ; 
worn  out  at  last,  she  slept. 

Waking  an  hour  later  she  heard  her  maid's  voice 
at  the  door. 

"  My  lady,"  the  woman  called :  "  it  is  ten  o'clock, 
and  you  have  had  no  dinner." 

"  I   am   going,"    she   replied,   "  to    see  Lady   Mar- 
garet Courcy.     Get  ready  to  come  with  me." 

Who  had  said  the  words?  Had  she?  and  whence 
came  the  thought  which  prompted  them?  As  a  flash 
of  light  amid  the  darkness  of  her  pain,  the  remem- 
brance of  Margaret  Courcy  had  come  to  Cecil  Gwynne. 
She  would  go  instantly  and  put  it  all  before  her 
cousin.  Margaret  was  so  sure  of  this  new  road,  she 
seemed  to  walk  it  with  unfaltering  tread,  where  she 
herself  could  only  follow  with  a  doubting  heart ;  she 
would  go  to  her  and  ask  her  to  fetch  Robert  to  her 
side  again.  She  would  ask  Margaret  to  make  the 
whole  thing  clear  to  him.  He  would  understand  it 
all  so  well,  if  Margaret  spoke  to  him  and  told  him  that 
it  was  the  "  Truth."  He  admired  Margaret  Courcy's 
high  intellectual  attainments,  and  knew  moreover  that 
she  was  always  calm — a  woman  whose  judgment  would 
not  easily  be  found  at  fault.  Yes,  Margaret  would 
make  the  whole  thing  clear  to  him,  and  then 
and  then,  .  .  .  this  awful  nightmare  would  surely 
pass  away,  and  all  the  road  be  clear  and  smooth  once 
more. 


180         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

But  during  the  short  -walk  to  her  cousin's  house, 
the  girl's  heart  fell  again,  and  it  was  with  trembling 
lips  and  a  breaking  voice  that  she  told  Margaret 
Courcy  of  her  need.  Lady  Margaret  listened  but  said 
no  word  in  comment,  for  she  had  known  that  it  would 
be  thus ;  she  had  read  Mr.  Saul's  complex  nature  better 
than  could  Cecil,  with  her  more  biassed  judgment; 
and  she  knew  that  the  time  was  now  at  hand  when 
his  love  for  his  cousin  would  be  submitted  to  the 
severest  possible  test.  Sincerely  religious,  he  was  un- 
consciously swayed  by  pride  of  priestcraft  and  of 
learning.  Before  he  would  stop  so  much  as  to  enquire 
into  the  rights  and  wrongs  of  any  ethical  question,  it 
must,  she  felt  sure,  be  presented  to  him  fully  armed 
with  the  credentials  of  scholarly  authorship  and  sup- 
ported by  the  might  of  orthodoxy. 

"  Speak  to  me,  Margaret,  for  pity's  sake !  Tell  me 
that  he  did  not  mean  it ;  "  and  Cecil  sank  her  head 
upon  her  cousin's  lap,  and  sobbed  aloud. 

For  all  answer,  Margaret  Courcy  bent  and  kissed 
the  girl's  forehead  gently;  then  she  lifted  her  quietly 
to  her  feet  and  put  into  her  hand  a  little  book. 

"  Rest  here,"  she  said,  "  and  read ;  I  will  go  to  my 
room  and  help  you." 

"  Oh,  Margaret,"  the  girl  pleaded,  "  stay  with  me ! 
I  cannot  read ; "  and  she  closed  the  book  impatiently 
and  put  it  down.  "  I  believe,"  and  Cecil  faltered  as 
she  spoke,  "  I  believe  that  if  it  really  comes  to  choos- 
ing between  Science  and  Robert,  that  I  shall  choose 
him ! "  She  spoke  the  last  few  words  defiantly,  as 
though  fighting  some  thought  within  her  heart. 

Margaret  Courcy  did  not  answer,  but  kissed  her 
cousin  again  and  left  the  room,  gently  closing  the 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE          181 

door  behind  her.  Alone,  Cecil  threw  herself  upon  the 
sofa. 

"  Let  there  be  light,"  she  sobbed,  "  let  there  be 
light !  I  cannot  see  my  way !  " 

Presently  she  grew  calmer  and  lay  quietly  resting 
among  the  soft  cushions ;  and  when  Lady  Margaret 
entered  the  room  an  hour  later,  Cecil  smiled  as  she 
rose  from  the  sofa  and  said,  "  Read  to  me,  Margaret, 
will  you?  Here  is  'Science  and  Health.'  It  is  still 
quite  dark ;  I  do  not  yet  see  the  way  out  of  this  tangle, 
but  I  am  not  afraid  any  more,  for  I  know  now  that  a 
way  will  surely  open." 

Lady  Margaret  took  the  book  and  read  aloud  for  a 
short  time,  making  no  comment,  though  occasionally 
she  paused  and  silently  dwelt  upon  some  passage  for 
a  moment.  When  she  ceased  reading,  Cecil  Gwynne 
rose  and  bade  her  a  calm  good-night. 

"  Thank  you,"  she  said,  "  that  is  a  beautiful  chap- 
ter which  you  have  just  read.  I  shall  dwell  upon 
that  great  thought  and  keep  it  with  me  to-night,  I 
still  do  not  know  which  way  to  turn,  but  to-mor- 
row  » 

"  To-morrow,"  Lady  Margaret  gently  interrupted, 
"  you  will  know  exactly  which  way  to  turn.  At  pres- 
ent, all  that  you  have  to  do  is  to  leave  to-morrow 
with  God,  remembering  that  *  infinite  Wisdom  is  infinite 
Pirection,  and  that  infinite  Love  is  infinite  Protec- 
tion.' " 


CHAPTER    XXI 
A  BARQUE— WITH  WHITE  SAILS  UNFURLED 

God's  plans,  like  lilies  pure  and  white  unfold, 
We  must  not  tear  the  close-shut  leaves  apart — 
Time  will  reveal  the  calyxes  of  gold. 

— Anon. 

IT  was  early  spring  and  many  months  had  passed  since 
the  day  upon  which  Mr.  Saul  and  Lady  Cecil  Gwynne 
had  parted.  Strange  to  say  not  once  since  then  had 
they  chanced  to  encounter  one  another.  At  first  Mr. 
Saul  felt  sure  that  they  would  often  meet,  and  had 
rather  armed  himself  against  the  attraction  of  Lady 
Cecil's  presence.  As  time  wore  on,  however,  he  believed 
that  his  life  would  be  livable  without  her  by  his  side, 
for  other  interests  gradually  crept  into  his  thoughts 
and  occupied  his  time.  Foremost  among  these  was  his 
sister,  Winnie  Stuart,  and  her  only  child,  Malcolm. 
Robert  Saul  had  settled  himself  in  his  London  house 
soon  after  his  return  from  Africa,  but  finding  the 
empty  rooms  unbearably  lonely,  he  had  welcomed,  with 
an  eagerness  which  surprised  himself,  a  cable  from  his 
sister  saying  that  she  was  about  to  leave  India  in  order 
to  see  something  of  her  only  child.  Obviously  the 
most  suitable  arrangement  was  for  brother  and  sister 
to  live  together.  Malcolm  of  course  spent  his  holidays 
with  them  and  gradually  found  his  way  into  his  uncle's 
heart,  bringing  comfort  to  the  lonely  man. 

182 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE          183 

Winnie  Stuart  had  scarcely  been  home  a  month,  when 
she  was  shocked  into  a  serious  illness  by  the  sudden 
announcement  of  her  husband's  death.  She  was  in- 
formed by  the  military  authorities  that  he  had  been 
killed  at  polo  the  day  before  his  intended  embarkation 
for  England ;  and  after  this  her  health,  always  delicate, 
seemed  to  fail  hopelessly.  Sometimes  Robert  Saul 
asked  himself  despairingly,  why  those  most  dear  to 
him  must  suffer  as  they  did,  while  he  stood  helplessly 
by.  All  that  money  could  do  he  did,  but  the  doctors 
only  shook  their  heads  and  talked  of  "  time."  These 
sudden  shocks,  they  told  him,  often  resulted  in  severe 
nervous  prostration,  and  he  must  wait  for  the  bright 
summer  days  and  then  get  Mrs.  Stuart  into  the  coun- 
try as  soon  as  possible.  Gradually  he  found  himself 
assuming  the  position  of  nurse  once  more,  and  very 
tenderly  he  waited  upon  his  fragile  sister.  Her  gentle 
nature  seemed  to  touch  him,  where  a  more  robust  tem- 
perament would  perhaps  have  irritated  his  own  highly 
strung  disposition. 

In  one  way  Winnie  suited  him  exactly  as  a  com- 
panion, she  was  a  beautiful  listener  and  the  most 
patient  creature  on  earth.  She  was  always  content  to 
write  at  his  dictation,  no  matter  how  long  it  might 
take,  for  she  delighted  at  all  times  to  do  his  bidding. 
One  of  those  people  born  to  obey  the  stronger  will 
about  them,  Mrs.  Stuart  never  once  attempted  to  use 
her  own  judgment.  It  was  ever  so  much  easier  to  let 
her  brother  decide  every  question  that  might  arise, 
and  then  simply  to  do  as  he  told  her.  Thus  it  came 
about  that  Robert  began  to  find  a  sort  of  satisfaction 
in  her  sweet  obedience  and  unquestioning  adoration. 
For  it  was  nothing  less.  She  always  had  thought  her 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

only  brother  the  most  wonderful  of  men,  and  now 
that  he  was  certain  of  a  bishopric  in  the  near  future, 
why,  she  thought  the  Church  fortunate  to  count  him 
among  its  servants.  But  to  Mr.  Saul  had  come  a 
bitter  disappointment.  The  bishopric  for  which  he 
had  been  mentioned  was  given  to  another.  Privately 
it  was  explained  to  him  that  influence  had  been  used 
in  a  certain  quarter,  the  net  result  being  that  a  very 
average  man  now  held  an  exceptionally  high  appoint- 
ment in  the  Church.  But  Robert  Saul  was  assured 
that  the  very  next  See  that  fell  vacant  was  bespoken 
for  him,  and  for  some  days  now  Winnie  Stuart  had 
been  watching  the  bulletins  which  daily  announced  the 
failing  health  of  the  Bishop  of  Yeovil.  She  wished  the 
old  man  no  ill — she  was  of  too  gentle  and  sweet  a 
disposition  to  wish  ill  to  anyone — but  she  felt  quite 
sure  that  he  had  held  the  bishopric  too  long,  and  that 
Robert  would  manage  the  diocese  much  better;  better 
indeed  than  anyone  else  possibly  could !  Thus  she  was 
both  astonished  and  disappointed  when  the  old  Bishop's 
death  was  quickly  followed  by  the  announcement  of  a 
new  creation,  and  once  more  Robert  was  not  the  chosen 
man. 

Mr.  Saul  was  himself  grievously  disappointed,  for 
he  had  felt  quite  sure  of  the  appointment,  though  he 
was  much  too  reticent  and  proud  to  dilate  upon  his 
hopes,  even  to  his  sister. 

He  was  now  carrying  on  the  duties  which  he  had 
so  ably  performed  previous  to  his  departure  for  Africa, 
and  he  remembered  with  pleasure  the  keen  apprecia- 
tion which  his  congregation  had  evinced,  as  soon  as 
it  was  understood  that  he  intended  to  resume  the  posi- 
tion which  he  had  formerly  held  among  them.  It  was 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         185 

known  that  "  the  Vicar "  always  preached  every  Sun- 
day morning  and  there  was  no  other  church  in  Lon- 
don so  crowded  by  noon  as  his,  and  no  other  preacher 
in  England  who  could  so  move  his  listeners.  This 
pleased  Mr.  Saul.  He  was  a  man  who  loved  to  rule ; 
a  man  to  whom  power  was  the  bread  of  life.  He  could 
scarcely  remember  the  time  when  he  had  not  been  king 
of  his  own  society,  and  as  a  very  young  man  he  had 
revelled  in  the  knowledge  that  he  controlled  those 
around  him  by  the  might  of  his  superior  intellect  and 
forceful  character.  To  those  who  knew  him  merely 
as  one  of  the  most  highly  educated  men  in  England 
and  a  very  conspicuous  Churchman,  it  would  have  been 
a  surprise  could  they  have  seen  him  contentedly  spend- 
ing his  few  spare  moments  beside  the  sofa  of  his 
invalid  sister.  But  there  was  a  side  to  Mr.  Saul's 
character  quite  hidden  from  the  world  and  altogether 
unsuspected  even  by  those  who  knew  him  best.  The 
fact  was  that  within  Robert  Saul  there  lay  a  great 
capacity  for  love,  and  he  was  possessed  by  a  strong 
desire  to  be  loved. 

It  would  not  occur  to  such  a  man  to  seek  another 
wife  after  his  experience  with  Lady  Cecil  Gwynne. 
He  had  given  her  the  best  that  he  could  ever  give  to 
any  woman  in  that  way,  and  though  he  believed  him- 
self to  be  resigned  to  circumstances,  he  did  not  for 
a  moment  contemplate  the  possibility  that  he  might, 
even  in  the  distant  future,  wish  to  marry  any  other 
woman.  He  never  had  cared  for  anyone  as  he  still 
cared  for  Cecil  Gwynne;  and  now  that  he  could  not 
marry  her,  he  settled  down  in  a  groove  which  he  sup- 
posed would  lead  on,  by  a  natural  sequence  of  events, 
tp  a  self-contained  old  bachelorhood. 


186         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

But  in  reality  he  was  far  from  content  with  his  fate ; 
far  from  satisfied  with  that  which  life  gave  him.  Also, 
side  by  side  with  his  discontent,  there  lived  a  bitter 
resentment  against  the  cause,  or  what  he  considered 
to  be  the  cause,  of  his  incomplete  and  colourless  exist- 
ence. For  his  life  was  colourless,  in  spite  of  the  fact 
that  he  was  one  of  the  busiest  men  in  London,  and, 
in  a  certain  circle,  the  most  sought  after.  But  nothing 
interested  him  as  it  would  have  done  could  Cecil  have 
been  there  to  enter  into  it  all  with  him ;  and  she  might 
have  been  there  had  it  not  been  for  this  horrible  "  fad  " 
(for  he  still  persisted  in  calling  it  a  "  fad  ")  that  had 
separated  them.  It  enraged  him  that  a  miserable 
question  of  this  sort  should  have  wrecked  his  life,  and 
bereft  him  of  the  intellectual  companionship  to  which 
he  had  looked  forward,  anticipating  that,  as  the  years 
should  pass,  he  would  be  able  to  train  and  shape  her 
thought  to  his  heart's  content. 

Now  he  was  entirely  dependent  upon  Winnie,  and 
it  would  not  have  occurred  to  him  to  discuss  his  work 
or  studies  with  her.  The  very  idea  was  absurd!  She 
was  not  exactly  stupid,  but  she  had  never  read  anything 
deeper  than  a  novel  since  she  went  to  her  first  ball, 
and  besides,  you  cannot  discuss  any  matter  with  a 
person  who  invariably  agrees  with  you  and  who  never 
by  any  chance  initiates  a  remark.  Thus  it  was  that 
the  reserve  which  was  natural  to  the  man,  grew  apace, 
and  his  heart  became  totally  encrusted  with  a  coldness 
and  egotism  that  estranged  him  from  many  who  sin- 
cerely admired  his  unusual  gifts,  and  who  paid  a  just 
tribute  of  praise  to  the  unremitting  toil  of  his  life. 
H'e  was  known  to  be  forming  a  habit  of  much  self- 
abnegation — never  sparing  himself  should  a  call  for 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         187 

help  come  from  his  poorest  parishioner ;  spending  hours 
by  the  bedside  of  those  who  sometimes  scarcely  thanked 
him  for  the  efforts  which  he  made  to  cheer  them  through 
a  troubled  time.  He  was  known  moreover  to  be  a  man 
of  high  ideals,  who  never  flinched  in  the  effort  to  live 
up  to  the  lofty  standard  of  purity  and  high  morality 
which  he  thus  upheld  by  deed  as  well  as  by  his  vigorous 
protests  against  sin,  delivered  Sunday  after  Sunday 
from  his  pulpit. 

Mr.  Saul  had  taken  Mrs.  Stuart  and  Malcolm — who 
was  just  home  for  the  summer  holidays — into  the 
country  and  had  himself  returned  to  London  for  his 
Sunday  duties.  On  Monday  he  was  to  join  them  for 
a  well-earned  rest.  He  was  looking  forward  to  the 
next  few  weeks,  and  meant  to  forget,  if  he  could,  the 
very  existence  of  the  crowded  city  in  which  his  busy 
life  was  spent,  and  lose  himself,  if  only  for  a  short 
spell,  in  a  world  of  scientific  research.  As  he  left  his 
dinner  table  upon  this  Saturday  night  he  asked  if  a 
parcel  of  books  had  arrived  for  him  and  was  glad  to 
receive  an  answer  in  the  affirmative.  For  the  next 
few  weeks  he  would  do  nothing  but  take  long  walks 
across  the  wortleberry-  and  heather-clad  hills,  or  sit 
out  on  the  moor  feasting  upon  the  contents  of  that 
parcel. 

The  evening  was  very  hot,  and  Robert  Saul  was 
tempted  to  wish  he  had  told  a  curate  to  represent  him 
at  the  concert  to  which  he  was  now  going;  but  it  was 
held  in  aid  of  a  deserving  charity,  in  the  inception 
and  growth  of  which  he  and  Cecil  Gwynne  had  both 
taken  a  sustained  interest,  so  the  fancy  had  been  strong 
upon  him  to  go  in  person.  He  was  a  little  late,  but 
was  too  well  known  to  be  allowed  to  suffer  in  conse- 


188         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

quence  of  that,  and  a  seat  had  been  reserved  for  him  in 
the  middle  of  one  of  the  front  rows.  There  were  pro- 
grammes of  course,  and  he  quickly  ran  his  eye  through 
one  but  immediately  put  it  down  with  a  distinct  realisa- 
tion of  his  disappointment.  But  he  instantly  forced 
his  thought  into  another  channel  and  refused  to  allow, 
even  to  himself,  that  he  had  expected  to  see  one  name 
in  particular  among  the  performers. 

As  the  evening  wore  on  he  became  a  little  bored  and 
decided  that  it  was  a  mistake  for  amateurs  to  perform 
in  public  in  London,  where  their  audience  must  in- 
evitably be  a  critical  one.  The  first  part  of  the  con- 
cert was  over,  and  he  fell  to  thinking  about  that  parcel 
of  new  books  and  the  quiet  weeks  before  him,  when, 
suddenly,  he  was  roused  from  the  state  of  apathy  into 
which  he  had  fallen  into  one  of  intense  interest. 

A  gentleman  had  come  upon  the  stage  and  an- 
nounced that,  owing  to  circumstances  over  which  she 
had  no  control,  Miss  Greenway  was  unable  to  be 
present,  and  that  Lady  Cecil  Gwynne  had  most  kindly 
consented  to  sing  in  her  place. 

And  now  Cecil  Gwynne  was  singing,  and  instantly 
Robert  Saul  knew  that  he  had  returned  from  Somer- 
setshire, not  to  preach  upon  the  morrow,  but  to  hear 
Cecil  sing  to-night.  Instantly  he  became  aware  that 
he  had  hoped  for  this  and  had  come  to  the  concert  im- 
pelled by  the  wish  to  see  her. 

Why  he  had  not  consciously  formulated,  or  followed 
up  this  motive,  he  did  not  now  stop  to  consider.  Cecil 
was  there  before  him,  and  he  knew  that  he  had  been 
hungering  for  the  sight  of  her  all  the  past  year.  He 
feasted  his  eyes  upon  her  face  and  form  and  never 
moved  them  except  once,  and  then  he  kept  them  closed) 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         189 

because  he  dared  not  let  the  sudden  moisture  which 
rose  within  them  be  seen  of  men.  Cecil's  voice  always 
had  moved  him  deeply,  but  he  had  never  heard  her  sing 
like  this  before!  never  realised  the  full  beauty  of  her 
voice,  nor  enjoyed  her  cultivated  rendering  of  any 
song,  as  he  did  to-night.  He  sat  perfectly  still  and 
wished  that  the  world  were  empty  of  all  save  Cecil  and 
himself. 

He  did  not  lift  his  eyes  until  her  song  was  ended 
and  she  left  the  stage.  The  rest  of  the  programme  be- 
came intolerable  to  him.  To  move  was  impossible,  but 
it  was  only  by  a  strong  effort  of  will  that  he  remained 
quietly  seated  after  the  concert  was  over,  until  some 
ladies  upon  either  side  of  him  rose  from  their  seats 
and  thus  permitted  him  to  go  in  search  of  Lady  Cecil 
Gwynne. 

He  was  determined  to  see  her;  quite  determined  to 
speak  to  her  before  she  left  the  concert  hall  that  night. 
His  chagrin  was  therefore  great  when,  after  an  ex- 
haustive search  among  the  crowd,  he  found  that  she 
had  left  the  building  the  instant  her  song  was  over. 

But  he  had  seen  her,  had  listened  to  her  voice;  and 
every  nerve  had  vibrated  as  she  sang.  For  hours  that 
night  he  lay  awake  and  asked  himself  how  he  could 
ever  have  supposed  that  it  was  possible  for  him  to  give 
her  up,  how  he  could  ever  have  contemplated  an  exist- 
ence entirely  separated  from  hers. 

From  that  night  his  thought  was  concentrated  upon 
one  single  purpose — to  win  Cecil  Gwynne  for  his  wife. 
How  it  was  to  be  done  he  did  not  stop  to  consider. 
Not  for  a  moment,  even  now,  did  he  propose  to  abate 
one  jot  or  one  tittle  of  his  creed.  Not  for  an  instant 
did  he  propose  to  depart  from  the  position  which  he 


190         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

had  taken  up.  It  was  Cecil  who  somehow  must  be 
made  to  give  in:  Cecil  who  must  change  her  ridiculous 
views  and,  as  he  crisply  put  it  to  himself,  come  to  her 
senses.  Sometimes  hope  ran  high  as  he  looked  back  at 
the  enterprises  which,  by  sheer  force  of  will,  and  the 
exercise  of  a  certain  quality  which  his  contemporaries 
called  grasp,  he  had  carried  triumphantly  through,  and 
he  felt  assured  of  success.  At  other  times,  he  asked 
himself  what  was  the  meaning  of  that  indefinable  quality 
in  Cecil  which  had  struck  him  for  the  first  time  a  year 


ago 


It  had  again  impressed  him  forcibly  upon  the  night 
of  the  concert,  for  he  had  then  watched  her  face 
steadily  during  the  first  few  moments  of  her  song,  and 
had  seen  in  it  something  to  which  he  could  not  put  a 
name.  Whatever  it  was,  it  baffled  him  and  sometimes 
made  him  doubtful  of  success.  Vaguely,  he  felt  left 
behind  and  impatiently  asked  himself,  how  was  he  ever 
to  come  in  touch  with  her  again?  Dimly,  he  realised 
that  there  was  now  a  distance  between  them  which 
had  not  before  existed;  but  this  only  made  him  the 
more  determined  to  bridge  the  chasm  over  and  subject 
her  will  to  his,  in  order  that  their  lives  might  flow  on- 
ward side  by  side — her  will  subservient  to  his  own ;  her 
every  thought  wedded  to  his  thought.  And  all  the  time 
he  called  it — love ! 


CHAPTER   XXII 

CALLED 

Gird  thy  heavenly  armour  on, 
Wear  it  ever  night  and  day; 
Ambushed  lies  the  evil  one — 
Watch  and  pray. 

— C.  Elliot. 
From  "  Qeistliche  Lieder" 

IT  was  autumn  now,  and  many  of  the  West  End  houses 
were  full  again.  But  day  after  day  passed,  and  Mr. 
Saul  neither  heard  nor  saw  anything  of  Lady  Cecil 
Gwynne.  He  had  written  to  her  that  August  night, 
directly  after  his  return  from  the  concert,  a  brief  note, 
for  he  knew  himself  to  be  deeply  stirred,  and  there 
ran  through  his  nature  a  certain  contradiction — a  curi- 
ous vein  of  caution  which  sometimes  made  him  stand 
en  garde  when  he  would  have  served  his  purpose  better 
by  stepping  boldly  out.  This  part  of  his  nature  was, 
however,  unknown  to  Cecil  Gwynne,  who  would  have 
described  him  as  the  most  impulsive  man  of  her  ac- 
quaintance; his  note,  therefore,  appeared  to  her  to  be 
both  cold  and  unrelenting  in  its  tone.  Her  answer 
was  equally  brief  and  merely  stated  that  she  regretted 
her  inability  to  receive  him  in  Grosvenor  Square  as 
she  was  shortly  leaving  town  until  the  autumn. 

From  that  time  until  this  Robert  had  counted  the 
days   until  the  fashionable  world  might  be  expected 

191 


192         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

to  be  "  at  home  "  once  more,  and  for  some  weeks  now 
he  had  been  hoping  to  encounter  Lady  Cecil  Gwynne 
casually.  This,  however,  did  not  happen,  and  it  did 
not  occur  to  him  that  possibly  Lady  Cecil  was  care- 
ful to  avoid  those  functions  at  which  he  would  almost 
surely  be  present.  Too  proud  to  write  to  her  again, 
he  yet  so  longed  to  see  her  that  he  did  not  now  at- 
tempt to  disguise  from  himself  his  real  motive,  when 
he  entered  into  social  engagements  which  his  many 
duties  made  it  difficult  for  him  to  keep.  Still  he  al- 
ways kept  them,  and  more  than  once  he  arrived  at  a 
musical  reception  only  to  find  that  Lord  Brecon  and 
his  sister  had  just  left. 

Meanwhile,  he  was  feeling  happier  and  brighter 
about  his  sister,  Winnie  Stuart,  than  he  had  ever  ex- 
pected to  feel.  After  all,  he  himself  had  only  escaped 
the  London  summer  for  a  few  weeks,  but  Winnie  and 
Malcolm  had  spent  all  the  long  vacation  upon  the 
Quantock  Hills.  The  boy  had  returned  to  school  some 
weeks  before,  and  Mrs.  Stuart  was  expected  home  that 
evening. 

An  engagement,  which  it  was  imperative  that  he 
should  keep,  prevented  his  greeting  her  at  Padding- 
ton,  but  he  hurried  back,  expecting  to  find  her  arrived 
and  comfortably  resting  upon  the  Ilkley  couch — the 
couch  which  he  had  originally  bought  for  Cecil  Gwynne. 

His  surprise  was  great  when  his  sister  met  him  in 
the  hall,  dressed  for  dinner — dressed,  not  in  one  of  her 
invalidish  teagowns,  but  in  a  dainty  demi-toilette. 

"  Why,  Winnie,"  he  exclaimed,  "  how  well  you  seem 
to  be!  your  cheeks  are  quite  pink,  and  you  look  ten 
years  younger ! " 

"  I  feel  ten  years  younger,"  she  answered  delightedly, 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE          193 

"  but  I  told  you  in  my  last  letter  than  I  am  getting 
quickly  strong." 

"  Yes,  I  know,  but  I  did  not  expect  such  a  transfor- 
mation as  tills"  And  Robert  kissed  his  sister  ten- 
derly, and  thanked  God  beneath  his  breath  that  he 
had  followed  the  doctor's  advice  and  left  her  so  long 
in  the  bracing  country  air.  It  had  not  been  easy  to 
do  so,  for  he  had  missed  the  quiet  comfort  of  her  pres- 
ence and  had  found  the  hot  summer  evenings  insup- 
portably  lonely.  Not  that  he  was  in  the  habit  of  con- 
versing much  with  Winnie,  but  he  liked  to  feel  that 
she  was  in  the  room  and  near  at  hand  should  he  need 
her. 

Dinner  that  night  was  the  merriest  that  the  brother 
and  sister  had  ever  spent  together ;  Winnie  was,  Robert 
told  her,  "  in  great  form,"  and  gave  him  bright  amus- 
ing sketches  of  the  adventures  which  she  and  Malcolm 
had  enjoyed  while  away.  He  discovered  that  this 
usually  dull  little  sister  of  his  had  quite  a  gift  as  a 
raconteuse,  and  he  found  her  brightness  infectious. 
Several  times  he  forgot  his  usual  self-containment  and 
laughed  so  heartily  that  his  butler  confided  to  the 
housekeeper  that  it  was  "  the  master  who  seemed  twenty 
years  younger,  let  alone  Mrs.  Stuart  ten !  " 

Coffee  had  been  brought  up,  and  Mr.  Saul  and  his 
sister  were  now  alone  in  the  drawing-room.  The  au- 
tumn evening  was  chilly  and  a  bright  fire  burnt  in  the 
grate,  before  which  Mr.  Saul  stood  leaning  his  back, 
English  fashion,  against  the  mantelpiece.  Presently  he 
moved  away  and,  seating  himself  in  a  large  armchair, 
held  out  his  hand  to  Winnie. 

"  Come  here ! "  he  said  kindly,  "  and  tell  me  more 
about  these  beautiful  pink  roses  which  the  moorland 


194         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

breezes  have  painted  upon  your  cheeks;  we  must  take 
care  that  the  London  fogs  do  not  dim  them.  I  do  not 
want  to  see  them  fade." 

Any  exhibition  of  feeling  upon  the  part  of  her  re- 
served brother  was  rare,  and  Winnie  was  deeply  touched 
by  his  unusual  display  of  tenderness. 

She  instantly  left  her  seat  and  sat  upon  the  arm  of 
his  chair. 

"  They  will  not  fade,"  she  answered  brightly,  "  for 
it  is  not  the  moorland  breezes  that  have  given  them  to 
me."  She  hesitated  a  moment,  and  then  continued, 
though  with  some  effort. 

"  This  summer  I  made  new  friends,  Robert ;  you 
remember  that  I  spoke  of  them  to  you  in  my  letters. 
The  Meades " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  he  interrupted,  "  tell  me  more  about 
the  Meades.  They  seem  to  have  been  the  kindest  of 
friends  to  my  lonely  little  sister  and  her  son." 

"  They  have  been  the  truest  friends  a  woman  ever 
had,  and  it  is  to  their  loving-kindness  that  I  owe,  in 
a  great  measure,  my  new-found  health,"  and  Winnie's 
face  grew  grave. 

"  And  you  have  known  them  only  a  short  time,  you 
say!  Well,  I  hope  that  I  may  have  an  early  oppor- 
tunity of  thanking  them,"  Robert  answered  heartily; 
"  for  what  blessing  is  there  to  be  compared  to  health 
of  mind  and  body',  and  you  seem  to  have  found  both." 
And  he  looked  at  his  sister,  still  surprised  at  the  change 
in  her  appearance  and  general  tone. 

"  I  have  learnt,"  she  answered  gently,  "  that  the 
two  are  inseparable — that  the  one  is  not,  in  reality,  a 
possibility  without  the  other." 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         195 

Though  her  tone  caught  Robert's  attention,  he  was 
nevertheless  utterly  unprepared  for  what  followed. 

"  Robert,"  Mrs.  Stuart  said  gravely,  "  it  is  Chris- 
tian Science  that  is  healing  me.  Have  you  ever  heard 
of  it?" 

"  Had  he  ever  heard  of  it  ?  "  Robert  held  his  breath. 
The  blow  was  so  unexpected  and  was  moreover  delivered 
from  the  last  quarter  in  the  world  from  which  he  could 
have  anticipated  any  such  attack.  That  Winnie,  of 
all  people,  should  have  become  entangled  in  this  dan- 
gerous heresy,  and  without  his  knowledge  or  consent, 
was  almost  inconceivable  to  him.  Winnie!  who  never 
spent  sixpence,  nor  took  a  drive  without  consulting 
him!  And  did  not  the  little  fool  know,  he  mentally 
exclaimed,  that  Christian  Science  had  wrecked  his  hap- 
piness! In  his  rage  he  was,  of  course,  unjust.  His 
sister  knew  that  his  engagement  to  Cecil  Gwynne  had 
been  suddenly  broken  off — that  much  he  had  written  to 
tell  her  before  her  return  from  India.  But  when  she 
had  ventured  shortly  after  her  return  to  refer  to  the 
matter  he  had  answered  her  enquiries  so  curtly  that  she 
had  never  approached  the  subject  again;  consequently 
she  knew  no  details.  Now  Robert  Saul  did  his  best,  the 
best  he  knew,  that  is,  to  curb  his  anger,  but  wild  pas- 
sion possessed  him,  and  for  a  time  he  dared  not  speak. 
The  veins  about  his  temples  rose  into  knots,  and  he 
closed  his  hands  and  held  them  stiff,  while  he  locked 
his  teeth  together. 

And  all  the  time,  Winnie  knew  nothing  of  the  storm 
which  raged  beside  her,  for  she  was  reading  from  a 
little  book  which  she  held  in  her  hand. 

"  I  have  only  read  this  book  through  once,"  she  said, 


196         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

"  but  it  seems  beautiful  to  me.  I  want  you  to  read  this 
first  page,"  and  she  handed  it,  open,  to  Mr.  Saul. 

He  knew  it  well !  Another  woman,  also  dear  to  him, 
had  once  put  this  same  small  volume  into  his  hand; 
that  time,  he  had  refused  to  so  much  as  touch  it.  Now, 
he  took  it  and  closed  the  cover  sharply,  while  his  face 
whitened  and  grew  hard. 

Very  deliberately  he  rose  from  his  chair  and  walked 
over  to  the  hearth.  Winnie  thought  that  he  moved  to- 
wards the  candles,  which  gave  a  brighter  light  upon 
the  mantelpiece,  in  order  that  he  might  the  better  see 
to  read.  Instead,  he  stooped  and  took  the  small  brass 
tongs  which  stood  against  the  lintel,  while  with  them 
he  removed  a  large  block  of  coal  from  the  top  of  the 
fire. 

"  Simmonds  has  made  an  enormous  fire,"  Mrs. 
Stuart  said.  "  I  wonder  why  servants ;  "  her  plati- 
tude was  never  finished.  She  ceased  speaking  abruptly, 
for  Robert  had  bent  low  over  the  fire  and  had  deliber- 
ately placed  her  book  in  the  very  centre  of  the  flame. 
Sheer  amazement  held  Winnie  Stuart  still.  But  when 
at  last  her  brother  turned  and  for  the  first  time  she 
saw  his  face  distinctly,  she  received  a  shock. 

"  Winnie."  Robert  Saul  stopped  abruptly,  and 
moistened  his  lips,  while  the  fingers  of  each  hand  dug 
into  the  palm ;  then  for  a  moment  he  mastered  his 
voice ;  "  Winnie,"  he  repeated  evenly,  in  clear,  decisive 
accents,  "  I  know  all  about  Christian  Science,  and  I 

shall  do  that ,"  he  jerked  his  head  towards  the 

soft  curling  ashes  which  marred  the  red  glow  of  the 
fire's  heart,  "  I  shall  do  that,"  he  repeated  with  cold 
distinctness,  "  to  every  book  of  the  kind  which  you 
bring  into  this  house." 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE          197 

He  left  the  room  abruptly,  and  one  minute  later 
Mrs.  Stuart  heard  the  hall  door  slam  and  a  quick  step, 
which  she  recognised  as  her  brother's,  passed  the  win- 
dow. 

At  first  she  was  too  bewildered  to  think  connectedly. 
Nothing  seemed  clear  to  her,  except  her  brother's  face, 
as  she  had  seen  it,  when  he  had  turned  and  spoken  to 
her  a  moment  ago. 

He  looked,  she  thought,  just  as  he  used  to  look 
twenty  years  ago,  when  in  a  passion.  But  surely  he 
had  long  outgrown  those  wild  rages !  "  Of  course," 
she  added  to  herself,  "  this  fit  of  fury  will  pass  quickly, 
just  as  those  others  did  when  he  was  a  boy;  and  he 
will  do,  as  he  invariably  did  then,  all  that  can  be  done 
to  make  up  to  me.  He  will  probably,"  and  now  she 
smiled,  "  buy  me  a  perfect  mountain  of  Christian  Science 
literature  in  place  of  the  book  which  he  has  burnt." 

Remembering  that  of  old  only  one  course  had  been 
possible  while  her  brother  was  angered,  Mrs.  Stuart 
rose  and  went  to  her  room.  To  leave  him  alone  had 
always  been,  she  remembered,  the  quickest  way  to  cool 
Robert's  wrath.  To-morrow,  he  would  make  a  point 
of  asking  her  forgiveness,  and  all  would  be  sunshine 
once  more.  And  then  she  smiled  again,  as  she  remem- 
bered how  her  brother  had  always  hated  to  "  beg  par- 
don," but  had,  nevertheless,  sternly  schooled  himself 
into  the  necessary  state  of  humility.  She  could  see 
him  now,  as  she  had  seen  him  often  when  a  child,  stand- 
ing before  her  with  his  face  crimson  and  his  eyes  still 
rebellious,  blurting  out,  boylike,  what  he  considered  an 
ample  apology — "  Sorry,  Winnie," — and  often  it  had 
happened  that  Winnie,  with  her  sweet  and  rather  shal- 
low nature,  had  already  forgotten  the  quarrel  and  would 


198         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

be  puzzled,  for  the  moment,  to  remember  to  what  he 
referred. 

Now,  she  changed  into  a  warm  dressing-gown  and 
sat  before  her  fire,  quite  happy,  reading  her  Bible.  It 
had  of  late  become  a  new  book,  bringing  to  her  rest  of 
body  and  calm  of  mind.  The  Gospels  were,  of  course, 
all  very  familiar,  but  now  the  Gospel  of  St.  John  held 
for  Winnie  a  new  and  joyous  meaning,  which  she  had 
never  before  known  to  be  there. 

"  To-morrow,"  she  mused  as  she  closed  her  Bible, 
"  all  will  be  well,  and  Robert  will  study  Christian 
Science  with  me,  and  we  shall  be  happier  than  ever 
he  or  I  have  been  before." 

And  soon  she  slept.  Slept !  when  she  should  have 
watched  and  prayed.  .  .  .  Ah,  Winnie,  though 
thou  dost  not  know  it,  because  as  yet  thou  are  rousing 
but  slowly  from  the  Adam-dream,  to-morrow  will  be 
big  with  blessing,  or  with  curse,  for  thee  and  thine. 
For  to-morrow  shall  come  the  call,  "  Take  up  the  cross 
and  follow  Me."  Poor  sleeping  child!  didst  not  heed 
the  warning  sent  thee  in  those  words — "  Not  as  the 
world  giveth,  give  I  unto  you?"  To  thee,  Winnie, 
much  has  now  been  given,  and  of  thee  much  shall  be 
demanded  in  return.  Sleep  not,  but  rise  up  quickly, 
work,  watch  and  pray,  with  all  thine  armour  on. 


CHAPTER    XXIII 
DOMESTIC  TYRANNY 

Woe  unto  them  that  call  evil  good,  and  good  evil; 
that  put  darkness  for  light,  and  light  for  darkness. 

— Isaiah. 

MRS.  STUART  awoke  the  next  morning  feeling  deeply 
depressed  and  very  tired.  She  turned  to  the  table 
beside  her  bed,  meaning  to  open  her  text  book.  But 
suddenly  she  remembered  that  it  had  been  quite  de- 
stroyed the  night  before.  Why  had  she  not  made  some 
effort  to  recover  it  from  the  flames  as  she  might  have 
done,  had  she  been  more  alert?  She  immediately  con- 
soled herself,  however,  with  the  thought  that  she  would 
buy  another  that  day.  But  as  she  dressed,  two  things 
occurred  to  her;  first,  she  had  no  money  of  her  own, 
and  in  this  matter  she  was  entirely  dependent  upon 
Robert.  Her  husband's  sudden  death  had  left  her  pen- 
niless, without  even  the  small  pittance  of  a  widow's 
pension.  Not  that  this  mattered  as  a  rule,  for  the 
ample  fortune,  which  her  brother  had  inherited  from 
his  godfather,  brought  him  in  a  goodly  income,  and 
he  was  one  of  those  men  who  delight  in  spending  their 
money  lavishly  upon  those  whom  they  love.  He  gave 
his  sister  splendid  presents  at  all  sorts  of  unexpected 
times.  He  would  have  thought  it  absurd  to  await  her 
birthday  or  the  arrival  of  a  festive  season,  before  pre- 
senting her  with  the  beautiful  little  victoria,  in  which 

199 


200         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

she  drove  daily.  He  always  insisted  that  she  should 
have  all  that  she  needed,  and  that  it  should  be  the 
best  of  its  kind.  He  never  would  allow  her  to  travel 
in  a  second-class  carriage,  but  always  paid  liberally 
for  the  restful  comfort  of  a  "  first,"  with  the  magic 
word  "  engaged "  slanting  across  the  window  pane. 
To  her  maid  he  paid  high  wages  in  order  that  Mrs. 
Stuart  might  be  carefully  waited  upon.  Indeed,  he 
ungrudgingly  spent  so  much  money  upon  her  comfort, 
surrounding  her  with  every  luxury,  that  Winnie  often 
told  her  brother  that  he  must  not  spoil  her.  Mal- 
colm's school  expenses  he  made  entirely  his  own  affair, 
and  believing  firmly  that  the  foundation  stones  of  a 
boy's  education  must  be  well  laid,  he  willingly  expended 
a  larger  sum  upon  his  nephew  than  many  a  parent 
would  have  considered  at  all  necessary.  And  yet,  in 
spite  of  his  magnificent  generosity,  his  sister  seldom 
had  the  personal  control  of  sixpence.  All  bills  were 
sent  in  to  Mr.  Saul,  and  a  liberal  cheque  drawn  should 
she  be  away  from  home,  but  her  brother  expected,  and 
always  obtained  from  her,  an  accurate  account  of  her 
expenditures  upon  these  occasions.  It  is  doubtful  if  he 
himself  knew  why  he  held  the  purse  strings  so  entirely 
in  his  own  hands.  Probably  he  did  not  examine  his 
motive.  Life  to  him  was  a  matter  of  perpetual  ac- 
tivity, and  he  spared  himself  very  little  time  for  intro- 
spection. But  his  method  was  consistent  with  his 
character,  the  dominant  note  of  which  was  a  habit  of 
despotism. 

The  second  point,  which  occurred  to  Mrs.  Stuart  as 
her  maid  wound  her  pretty  soft  hair  around  her  head, 
was  that  she  had  no  idea  where  to  purchase  another 
copy  of  "  Science  and  Health."  She  was  a  very  young 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         201 

student  of  Christian  Science,  and  though  she  had  felt 
its  power,  her  natural  laziness  had  made  her  slow  to 
take  up  her  own  work.  Dimly  she  discerned  something 
of  the  beauty  of  this  new  religion,  for  she  had  already 
proved  its  power  to  be  Love.  Was  it  not  restoring  her 
to  health,  and  at  the  same  time  revealing  to  her  awaken- 
ing consciousness  that  God  is  a  God  of  Love  alone? 
But  though  Winnie  Stuart  had  distinctly  heard  the 
voice  of  Truth  calling  her,  she  was  still  only  stirring 
in  her  sleep,  and  her  eyes  were  heavy  with  the  thraldom 
of  the  past  and  the  slumber  of  the  ages. 

Now  she  went  down  to  breakfast  and  began  to  chat- 
ter to  her  brother,  just  as  though  there  had  been  no 
storm  the  night  before.  But  he  scarcely  answered  her. 
Indeed  Mr.  Saul  looked  weary,  as  even  a  strong  man 
may  after  a  great  conflict,  especially  when  he  is  the 
loser. 

Not  that  Robert  Saul  supposed  himself  to  have  lost 
the  battle.  On  the  contrary,  he  was  secretly  proud 
that  he  had  found  the  courage  to  stand  firm,  and  it 
was  in  a  tone  of  some  curtness  that  he  told  his  sister, 
directly  the  meal  was  over,  that  he  wished  to  speak 
to  her  in  his  study.  Mrs.  Stuart  immediately  rose. 
It  would  have  been  unnatural  to  her  to  disobey,  as  she 
had  been  subject  to  her  brother's  rule  almost  ever  since 
she  could  speak.  True,  during  the  few  years  of  her 
married  life,  she  had  been  somewhat  emancipated,  but 
only  to  a  certain  extent.  Old  habits  take  long  in  the 
uprooting,  and  she  had  hardly  been  under  her  brother's 
roof  a  week,  on  her  return  from  India,  before  she  re- 
sumed her  role  of  gentle  obedience  as  naturally  as 
possible. 

Mr.   Saul   opened  the  study  door  and  stood   aside 


202         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

with  punctilious  politeness,  as  his  sister  entered.  Then 
he  immediately  followed  and  closed  the  door.  He  did 
not  look  at  Winnie,  however,  but  walked  to  the  window 
and  fixed  his  eyes  upon  the  dreary  scene  without.  It 
was  a  miserable  day;  drip,  drip,  the  rain  fell,  and  all 
the  air  was  dark.  A  wretched  woman,  passing,  paused 
and  raised  a  face  yellow  with  starvation.  Her  wan 
appearance  irritated  Mr.  Saul,  and  opening  the  window 
sharply  he  threw  her  half  a  crown.  It  was  against 
his  principles  to  be  thus  indiscriminate  in  his  charity, 
but  the  woman's  appearance  had  momentarily  reminded 
him  of  Winnie;  nothing  definable,  but  just  that  touch 
of  likeness  in  face  and  form,  which  claims  the  attention 
of  the  observant.  Mr.  Saul  was  unusually  observant 
this  morning — his  every  sense  seemed  quickened.  He 
noticed  with  annoyance  that  his  orders  had  been  over- 
looked in  the  small  matter  of  window  curtains.  They 
should  have  been  changed  yesterday.  To-day,  they 
appeared  to  be  a  great  deal  less  white  than  when  he  had 
called  his  housekeeper's  attention  to  them  twenty-four 
hours  ago  because  they  were  not  up  to  the  mark  of 
spotlessness  which  he  demanded. 

He  stood  for  a  long  time  silently  before  the  window, 
his  great  form  blocking  out  much  of  what  little  light 
there  was  upon  this  dark  autumn  morning. 

Meanwhile,  Winnie  waited  quietly  enough.  Upon 
entering  the  room,  she  had  seated  herself  in  the  large 
chair  which  stood  beside  the  fire.  She  was  not  looking 
at  her  brother  at  all,  and,  when  at  last  he  spoke,  she 
was  a  little  startled. 

Was  this  Robert's  voice?  The  usually  rich  tones 
were  now  harsh  and  discordant,  and  he  seemed  to  speak 
with  difficulty. 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         203 

Mrs.  Stuart  was  not  a,  woman  of  much  penetration, 
but  of  late  she  had  begun  to  understand  those  around 
her  much  more  easily;  and  she  now  became  aware  that 
her  brother  was  suffering. 

"  Winnie,"  he  said,  "  I  have  thought  this  matter  out 
— you  must  choose  between  me  and  Christian  Science !  " 

"What  do  you  mean?"  she  gasped,  in  simple  per- 
plexity. 

"  I  mean,"  he  repeated  slowly,  "  precisely  what  I 
say;  you  must  choose  between  me — between  this  house, 
for  instance — and  Christian  Science." 

For  fully  a  minute  Winnie  Stuart  did  not  reply. 
When  she  did,  Robert  Saul  was  amazed.  He  thought 
he  knew  his  docile  sister  so  well,  that  now  he  almost 
doubted  his  hearing.  Winnie  had  risen  and  stood 
silently  before  him.  Her  face  was  very  white.  For  the 
time,  at  any  rate,  the  bright  roses  had  faded.  Pres- 
ently she  spoke. 

"  I  choose,"  she  said  in  strong  clear  accents,  "  Chris- 
tian Science." 

The  brother  and  sister  faced  each  other.  Neither 
moved,  neither  spoke,  for  quite  a  while.  Then  slowly 
the  blood  mounted  to  Robert's  face,  and  he  struck  a 
blow  which  he  believed  would  be  quite  final.  But  he  did 
not  look  at  the  woman  before  him  as  he  spoke;  he  was 
ashamed,  quite  consciously  ashamed,  and  yet  .  .  . 
he  did  it. 

"  You  must  choose  between  Malcolm  and  Christian 
Science ! " 

There  was  now  a  complete  silence — a  silence  preg- 
nant with  the  issues  of  life  and  death,  though  neither 
the  man  nor  the  woman  knew  it  then.  The  rain  con- 
tinued to  beat  its  dreary  dirge  upon  the  window  pane ; 


204         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

a  hansom  drove  rapidly  by ;  a  half-drenched  pedestrian 
hurried  past  the  window  and  glanced  curiously  at  the 
tall  form  within  the  room ;  and  still  neither  the  man  nor 
the  woman  spoke. 

The  clock  struck  ten,  and  Mr.  Saul,  suddenly  mind- 
ful of  another  engagement,  broke  the  long  silence. 

"  I  will  give  you,"  he  said,  "  five  minutes  in  which 
to  decide  whether  you  will  give  up  this  nonsense,  or 
render  your  child  penniless  and  homeless." 

Winnie  stood  up  very  straight,  and  looked,  for  her, 
quite  tall. 

"  I  will  work  for  Malcolm,"  she  said. 

"  Work  ?  "  Mr.  Saul  laughed  aloud,  intending  his 
sister  to  hear  him,  as  she  left  his  presence;  intending 
her  to  suffer  as  she  heard. 

"  Work  for  Malcolm ! "  Where  and  how  did  the 
silly  creature  suppose  that  she  could  earn  enough  to 
feed  the  child,  much  less  to  educate  him!  And  Mr. 
Saul  thought  of  the  last  cheque  which  he  had  drawn 
during  the  summer  holidays.  Pshaw !  She  would  come 
to  her  senses  in  time,  and  it  would  no  doubt  help  her 
to  do  so,  if  he  were  to  show  her  that  last  counterfoil. 
He  unlocked  a  drawer  in  his  writing-table  and  drew 
from  it  his  cheque  book.  A  file  of  papers  caught  his 
eye  and  selecting  one,  he  went  in  search  of  his  sister, 
whom  he  found  in  her  sitting-room. 

In  justice  to  the  man  it  must  be  remembered  that  he 
himself  was  suffering.  But  he  was  of  the  kind  who 
would  literally  have  cut  off  the  right  hand,  had  he 
deemed  it  his  duty  to  do  so.  In  one  way,  he  had  been 
born  too  late.  He  had  the  splendid  courage  that  goes 
to  the  making  of  a  martyr,  coupled  with  a  fervent  de- 
votion to  his  religion ;  and  if  his  character  was  marred 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         205 

by  harshness  and  a  lack  of  breadth,  this  was  more  the 
inevitable  outcome  of  the  life  which  he  had  led,  than  in- 
herent to  his  nature. 

He  stood  before  his  sister  for  a  moment,  holding 
out  a  receipted  bill. 

"  Look,"  he  said,  "  and  tell  me  how  you  propose  to 
earn  enough  to  settle  such  accounts  as  this." 

Winnie  Stuart  took  the  paper  and  glanced  at  it. 
She  breathed  a  little  quickly  when  next  she  spoke. 

"  I  had  no  idea,"  she  said,  "  that  a  preparatory 
school  cost  so  much." 

"  It  depends  on  the  school,"  Mr.  Saul  answered 
shortly.  "  Come,  Winnie,"  he  added  more  pleasantly, 
"  you  can't  seriously  contemplate  the  ruin  of  Malcolm's 
career.  You  know  how  clever  the  boy  is ;  you  know 

how  much   his    future   means   to   me.     Probably " 

Mr.  Saul  paused  for  a  moment,  and  then  added  in  a 

tone  of  some  emotion,  "  or  perhaps  you  do  not  know, 

because  it  is  hard  for  me  to  speak  of  these  things,  but 

I  love  the  child  as  if  he  were  my  own.    If  you 

will  give  up  this "  he  hesitated,  and  then  found 

the  word  he  sought,  "  this  aberration,  Malcolm  shall 
be  to  me  as  a  son,  and  neither  you  nor  he  shall  ever 
have  one  moment's  anxiety  about  ways  and  means." 

"  Thank  you,  Robert,"  his  sister  replied  with  sweet 
gravity,  "  but  you  ask  that  which  I  have  no  power 
to  grant.  I  understand  very  little  of  this  new  thought, 
but  it  has  done  for  me  in  a  short  time  more  than  ever 
my  religion  did  before.  It  has  made  me  happier  and 
stronger  than  I  have  ever  been;  it  has  given  me 

a " 

"  Then  we  will  not  waste  time  over  a  useless  dis- 
cussion." Mr.  Saul  spoke  hastily  again :  "  And  what, 


206         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

may  I  ask,  do  you  propose  to  do  ?  I  shall  at  once  send 
off  the  necessary  notice,  in  order  that  Malcolm  may 
leave  school  as  soon  as  possible." 

"  I  propose,"  Mrs.  Stuart  answered,  "  to  consult 
my  friends  the — — " 

"  A  telegram  for  you,  madam ;  "  and  Mrs.  Stuart 
turned  to  find  the  maid  at  her  elbow. 

She  took  the  missive  with  some  surprise,  for  she 
seldom,  if  ever,  received  a  wire,  and  her  face  whitened 
as  she  read  the  message. 

Robert,  watching  her,  turned  sharply  to  the  servant. 
"  That  will  do,"  he  said,  "  I  will  ring  if  there  is  any 
answer." 

As  the  maid  closed  the  door,  Mr.  Saul  crossed  the 
room,  and  spoke  gently  to  his  sister,  for  he  himself 
was  not  free  from  anxiety. 

"  Malcolm  is  all  right  ?  Surely,  Winnie,  it  is  not 
from  the  school?  " 

Mrs.  Stuart  handed  him  the  telegram,  saying; 

"  I  will  go  to  my  bedroom,  Robert,  I  want  to  be 
quite  alone." 

Mr.  Saul  read  rapidly  the  few  short  sentences  writ- 
ten upon  the  flimsy  paper  in  his  hand ;  "  Unexpectedly 
leaving  England  immediately,  am  writing  and  sending 
you  the  particulars  you  need.  Meade." 

"  Excellent,"  he  said  aloud,  "  this  will  settle  the 
matter."  He  left  the  house  a  few  minutes  later,  satis- 
fied that  all  would  come  about  as  he  wished,  and  as  he 
walked  round  to  the  vestry  meeting  at  which  he  was 
somewhat  overdue,  he  wondered  whether  he  could  give 
up  Malcolm  should  Winnie  persist  in  her  folly?  The 
child  was  one  after  his  own  heart,  in  whom  he  loved  to 
trace  a  likeness  to  himself.  That  the  kd  had  brains  no 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE          207 

one  could  doubt,  though  the  father  had  been  a  very 
average  man,  and  Winnie  was  certainly  not  clever. 

Most  people  stood  somewhat  in  awe  of  Mr.  Saul, 
but  Malcolm,  though  he  had  at  first  felt  timid  in  his 
uncle's  presence,  had  gradually  been  drawn  towards 
him.  He  felt  the  love  which  Robert  silently  cherished 
for  him,  and  he  would  now  unhesitatingly  approach 
his  uncle  at  all  times,  even  invading  the  strict  privacy 
of  his  study  uninvited,  till  Robert  Saul  had  grown  to 
look  forward  to  the  holidays  and  to  the  long  winter 
and  early  spring  evenings,  when  Malcolm,  book  in  hand, 
would  curl  himself  upon  the  study  hearth.  Sometimes 
he  would  lie  there  reading  for  hours,  sometimes  he 
would  enter  into  strange,  thoughtful  conversations  with 
the  reticent  man,  who  was  seemingly  never  too  busy  to 
answer  his  questions  and  who  was,  moreover,  always 
able  to  explain  those  difficult  matters,  which  other 
people  did  not  appear  to  understand.  Often  they 
would  go  out  upon  the  balcony  and  study  the  starlit 
heavens,  and  in  time  Malcolm  became  quite  wise  and 
talked  so  naturally  of  matters  usually  unapproached 
by  a  child  of  his  age,  that  his  uncle  found  in  him  a 
source  of  perpetual  delight. 

A  short  walk  now  brought  the  Vicar  to  his  Church, 
and  as  he  entered  he  comforted  himself  with  the  re- 
flection that  it  was  not  he  who  had  to  choose  between 
his  religion  and  his  desire.  Things  were  shaping  very 
nicely,  and  Winnie  would  soon  behave  sensibly ;  espe- 
cially now  that  these  objectionable  new  friends  of  hers 
were  leaving  England,  for  she  would  have  no  one  but 
himself  to  lean  upon. 

That  afternoon,  while  he  and  his  sister  were  seated 
at  tea,  the  maid  entered  with  the  five  o'clock  post. 


208         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

Several  letters  for  Mr.  Saul  and  only  a  postcard  for 
Mrs.  Stuart. 

Winnie  paused  in  the  act  of  pouring  out  her 
brother's  tea,  to  take  her  card  from  the  maid,  but  she 
did  not  look  at  it  as  she  laid  it  upon  the  table  beside 
her. 

The  postmark  was  a  particularly  distinct  one,  and 
Mr.  Saul  instantly  observed  it. 

"  Winnie,"  he  said,  as,  leaning  over,  he  took  up  the 
card,  "  this  is  only  a  postcard  and  is  evidently  from 
your  friends  the  Meades.  May  I  read  it?  " 

Mrs.  Stuart  was  a  little  surprised,  but  it  was  at  all 
times  easier  for  one  of  her  lethargic  disposition  to 
consent  to,  rather  than  dissent  from,  another's  wishes, 
and  so  she  nodded  silently. 

As  he  read,  the  devil,  as  Mr.  Saul  afterwards  de- 
clared, entered  into  him  and  used  him  to  strike  a  blow 
which  one  day  came  home  to  roost. 

Upon  the  card  were  written  a  few  hurried  lines 
only,  an  intimation  of  regret  that  the  writer  had  not 
time  to  enter  into  detail,  but  was  sending  the  address 
from  which  Mrs.  Stuart  could  obtain  all  the  informa- 
tion which  she  needed  in  order  to  follow  up  her  study 
of  Christian  Science. 

Reading  this,  Mr.  Saul  at  once  realised  that  he  had 
wasted  his  energy,  when,  in  the  passion  of  the  moment, 
he  had  the  night  before  burnt  Winnie's  text  book,  for 
now  she  could  easily  obtain  another  copy  and,  it  ap- 
peared, make  the  acquaintance  of  as  many  of  these 
objectionable  people  as  she  chose.  "  But,"  the  devil 
whispered,  "  she  has  not  read  the  card,  and  the  writer 
is  leaving  England.  Before  he  can  write  again,  or  she 
can  obtain  the  address  by  making  other  enquiries, 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         209 

Winnie  will  see  the  matter  in  its  proper  light,  and  Mal- 
colm will  not  be  separated  from  you,  but  will  become 
unto  you  even  as  a  son."  Scenes  from  the  past 
thronged  through  the  now  open  door  and  tugged  at  the 
man's  heartstrings.  He  must  have  Malcolm.  The 
boy's  pale,  clever  face,  alight  with  intelligence  as  he 
remembered  it  to  have  been  that  night  when  they  both 
became  so  interested  while  discussing  stars  of  the  fourth 
and  fifth  magnitude,  rose  before  Mr.  Saul,  and  he  knew 
that  he  could  not  let  Malcolm  go.  Neither  was  it  pos- 
sible to  such  a  man,  in  such  a  mood,  to  take  what  would 
have  seemed  to  him  to  be  a  retrogressive  step.  He 
had  placed  his  ultimatum  before  his  sister,  and  by  it 
they  must  both  abide. 

So  he  looked  Mrs.  Stuart  straight  in  the  face,  for 
he  became  less  ashamed  each  time  he  hurt  her,  and 
said,  "  I  do  not  wish  you  to  read  this  postcard  so  I 
intend  to  destroy  it !  "  And  before  Winnie  could  utter 
a  protest  by  word  or  deed,  he  had  quietly  placed  the 
card  in  the  breast  pocket  of  his  coat. 

Winnie  understood  at  once  that  to  attempt  to  re- 
gain possession  of  her  property  by  force  would  be 
absurd.  Robert  was  the  most  stalwart  man  she  knew. 
He  would  not  need  to  do  more  than  stand  firm  and 
passively  resistant,  while  she  should  expend  her 
woman's  strength  in  the  futile  endeavour  to  obtain 
that  which  he  did  not  intend  her  to  have.  Besides 
such  a  proceeding  would  have  been  completely  foreign 
to  her.  She  was  too  sensible  to  even  argue  about  the 
matter. 

"  You  should  not  have  done  that,  Robert,"  she  said 
quietly. 

Mr.  Saul,  though  he  would  never  have  admitted  it, 


210         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

felt  more  rebuked  than  he  could  have  supposed  pos- 
sible. 

"  I  must  help  you,"  he  answered  instantly,  "  while 
you  are  unable  to  see  clearly  enough  to  help  yourself. 
Upon  the  day  that  you  promise  me  to  drop  this 
blasphemous  creed  I  will  return  your  property." 

Mrs.  Stuart  did  not  answer  a  word,  but  turning  help- 
lessly away  she  left  the  room. 

Poor  slumbering  child,  with  the  dream  of  ages  in 
thine  eyes !  Frail  mortal,  burdened  with  the  finite 
thought  of  personal  control:  what  canst  thou  do? 

Listen,  my  sister;  there  is  a  great  highway  which 
lies  wide  open  and  leads  unto  the  endless  day — "  they 
way  of  holiness  " — and  "  the  wayfaring  men,  though 
fools,  shall  not  err  therein."  Wake!  little  sister,  wake! 
Quickly,  while  there  yet  is  time,  "  gird  up  the  loins  of 
your  mind,"  "  arise  from  the  dead,  and  Christ  shall 
give  thee  light." 


PART  IV 

BROKEN   SHUTTLES   UPON   THE   TABLE  OF 

TIME 


CHAPTER   XXIV 

THE  RECANTATION 

These  things  have  I  spoken  unto  you,  that  ye  should  not 
be  offended.  They  shall  put  you  out  of  the  synagogues: 
yea,  the  time  cometh,  that  whosoever  killeth  you  will  think 
that  he  doeth  God  service. 

— Jesus. 

"  WINNIE,"  Robert  Saul  spoke  gently,  when  some 
hours  later  he  bade  his  sister  good-night,  "  I  have 
been  thinking  this  matter  over  again,  and  I  feel  so  sure 
that  you  will  be  guided  by  me,  that  we  will  leave 
things  as  they  are  for  a  week.  At  the  end  of  that 
time,  I  know  that  you  will  do  as  I  wish." 

Mrs.  Stuart  did  not  answer,  but  kissed  her  brother 
quietly  and  went  rather  wearily  upstairs. 

The  next  day  there  began  for  Winnie  Stuart  a  time 
of  mental  persecution  which  can  only  be  understood  by 
those  who  have  been  tried  in  a  like  fire ;  and  all  the 
time  Robert  Saul  believed  that  he  was  serving  his  God. 
Even  though  he  saw  his  sister's  new-found  health 
rapidly  failing,  he  somehow  convinced  himself  that  any- 
thing were  better  than  such  a  life  as  she  would  lead, 
were  he  to  allow  her  to  embrace  this  heretical  creed. 
Every  weapon  that  the  carnal  mind  could  devise  and 
forge  of  cruelty,  it  used,  and  found  in  him  a  ready  tool ; 
scourges,  woven  of  bitter  derision — a  very  refinement 
of  insult — cold  neglect,  born  partly  of  a  half-uncon- 

213 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

scious  determination  to  make  her  bend  her  will  to  his, 
partly  of  his  inability  to  understand  how  fearful  was 
the  pain  which  he  daily — nay,  hourly — inflicted  upon 
this  gentle  nature.  And  the  devil  put  ready  to  his 
hand  a  knotted  cord  of  awful  weight — Malcolm. 
Robert  Saul  spared  the  mother's  loving  heart  not  one 
single  fear  that  his  rampant  thought  could  conjure 
up.  He  painted,  with  all  the  power  of  his  wonderful 
eloquence,  the  child's  future,  despised,  ill-educated, 
hungry,  perhaps  even  degraded. 

Winnie  bore  it  all  without  a  word.  But  one  night 
she  wept  herself  to  sleep  and  woke  the  next  day  weary 
and  afraid,  for  to-day  Robert  would  ask  her  decision. 
Then,  in  her  pain,  she  murmured  and  sought  to  justify 
herself ;  "  If  only  she  had  known  the  Meades  longer ! 
If  only  she  could  go  to  them !  If  only  she  understood 
this  new  thought  better  and  could  apply  it  when  in 
need ! "  But  why  did  she  not  understand  this  new 
thought  better?  Why  could  she  not  apply  it  when  in 
need?  Was  it  not  because,  when  with  the  Meades,  she 
had  yielded  to  a  natural  laziness  and  had  not  made 
any  real  effort  for  herself  and  had  thus  neglected  one 
of  those  golden  opportunities  whioh,  once  lost,  can 
only  be  regained  through  sore  trial  and  tribulation? 
She  had  not  begun  really  to  study  Christian  Science, 
before  her  brother  had  wrenched  the  text  book  from  her 
hand;  and  the  habit  of  her  life  was  strong  upon  her 
and — Robert  hurt  her  every  hour  of  the  day! 

Still  she  did  not  waver,  for  already,  though  she  had 
understood  so  little,  she  realised  that  much  indeed  had 
been  given  to  her  in  those  few  wonderful  months,  and 
that  Christian  Science  held  for  her  that  which  she  had 
not  supposed  that  life  upon  earth  could  hold  for  any- 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         215 

one.  Yet  she  feared  to  rely  utterly  upon  it,  while 
Science,  and  Science  alone,  could  have  sustained  her 
through  the  ordeal  which  now  confronted  her. 

Here  Winnie  Stuart  made  the  mistake  of  her  life; 
a  mistake  arising  out  of  that  strange  obstinacy,  which 
weak  natures  misname  strength.  She  surrendered  her- 
self to  the  subtle  power  of  the  human  will;  nay,  she 
even  called  it  to  her  aid,  and  told  herself  again  and 
again,  that  she  would  not  give  in;  rather,  she  would 
bear  anything;  for  once  Robert  should  see  that  her 
will  was  equal  to  his  own!  Thus,  trusting  to  a  sup- 
port which  was  wholly  mortal,  she  was  all  unprepared 
for  the  fierce  trial  which  awaited  her.  Nor  did  she 
fortify  herself  as  she  might  have  done:  day  after  day 
her  Bible  had  remained  unopened,  and  she  made  no 
effort  at  all  to  replace  her  text  book. 

But  how  had  Robert  Saul  spent  that  night?  He 
left  his  study  late,  only  to  return  within  the  hour;  for 
he  found  that  he  could  not  sleep.  Then  it  was  that 
subtle  Evil  dressed  itself  in  seeming  white,  as  it  loves 
best  to  do,  and  crept  upon  its  silent  way  with  soft  and 
sinuous  tread,  till  it  paused  before  an  open  door  called 
Hate.  "  Ah,"  it  murmured  gleefully,  "  I  know  my 
way  in  here  right  well ! "  Within  the  door  it  paused 
and  announced  itself — "  Religion."  Then  sat  itself 
upon  the  lap  of  man  and  darted  poison  in  his  ear. 
"  You  love  your  sister,"  it  softly  said ;  "  and  you  must 
save  her  from  this  thing  which  you  so  justly  hate,  for 
you  best  can  serve  your  God  by  saving  her,  if  need  be, 
from  herself.  The  means  you  ask?  why,  all  are  fair  to 
win  a  soul  from  hell ! "  And  the  face  of  Evil  glowed 
with  an  unholy  light;  and  the  heart  of  Evil  laughed, 
and  laughed  again,  as  it  saw  that  man  was  fast  asleep 


216         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

and  dreamed  he  spoke  to  Good.  "  The  means  ?  "  man 
muttered ;  "  tell  me  where  they  may  be  found,  and  I 
will  use  them,  though  it  should  cost  me  all  I  love ! " 

Softly  Evil  placed  its  poisoned  lips  upon  the  ear  of 
man  and  whispered,  in  a  voice  whose  triumph  it  could 
scarce  conceal,  the  name  of  one  whom  Winnie  held 
most  dear.  But  the  face  of  man  grew  white  and  horror- 
struck  ;  "  Tell  me,"  he  said,  "  some  other  way,  I  dare 
not  use  the  child." 

"  Hast  thou  forgot  ?  "  and  the  lying  voice,  which 
always  apes  the  truth,  made  subtle  answer  to  his  fear. 
"  Hast  thou  forgot,  *  a  little  child  shall  lead  them »?  " 

The  head  of  man  sank  low  upon  his  breast  and  he 
muttered  in  his  heart,  "  I  had  forgot !  to-morrow — I 
—will — act." 

Thus  Evil,  having  twisted  to  its  lying  heart's  con- 
tent the  word  of  Good,  laughed  low,  and,  wise  as  are 
the  children  of  this  world,  it  crept  away  nor  marred 
its  work  by  overwork. 

Thus  the  morrow  was,  for  Robert  Saul,  a  day  of 
mighty  triumph ;  followed  by  a  night  of  weeping ! 

Malcolm  was  up  for  his  half-term  holiday,  and  di- 
rectly after  lunch  Mr.  Saul  took  the  child  into  his 
study.  Winnie  beckoned  the  boy  back  as  he  turned 
at  the  door,  and  smiling,  he  kissed  his  hand  to  her. 

**  In  a  minute,  mother,"  he  called  in  sweet,  clear  ac- 
cents, and  then  the  door  closed  upon  him. 

The  minutes  passed  into  an  hour,  and  the  hour  into 
two,  and  still  Malcolm  did  not  return. 

At  last  Mrs.  Stuart,  unable  to  remain  longer  alone, 
went  to  the  study  and  brought  the  child  away. 

His  face  was  aflame  and  his  eyelids  wet  with  tears, 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         217 

and  scarcely  had  they  entered  the  drawing-room,  be- 
fore he  turned  and  rent  his  mother,  as  I  have  seen  a 
hound  worry  a  wounded  hare. 

"  Mother,"  he  said  in  a  voice  so  hard  that  Winnie 
wondered,  was  it  really  her  child  who  spoke?  "  You 
must  give  up  Christian  Science,  or  I  shall  hate  you! 
I  shall  hate  you,  forever  and  forever !  "  The  boy's  face 
quivered  in  his  rage  and  pain,  and  now  his  voice  was 
low  and  fierce — almost  a  snarl. 

Winnie  reeled  as  though  she  had  been  struck. 

"Hush!  Malcolm,"  she  whispered.  "Oh,  hush!" 
and  she  raised  her  hands  as  though  to  ward  off  some 
foul  blow.  "  You  do  not  know  what  it  is  you  say  to 
me." 

"  I  know  very  well."  The  boy  flung  the  words  at 
her,  while  his  eyes  blazed  and  his  little  form  grew 
rigid  with  the  passion  of  a  fancied  wrong.  "  I  know 
very  well  that  if  I  do  not  go  to  school  and  learn  like 
other  boys,  that  I  shall  grow  up  a  dunce ;  Uncle  Robert 
says  so;  and  all  the  other  boys / will  laugh — but  they 
shall  not  laugh  at  me." 

Winnie  did  not  hear  him  now.  One  sentence  only 
rang  within  her  ear,  and  struck  with  cruel  force  upon 
her  heart.  "  I  shall  hate  you !  I  shall  hate  you,  for- 
ever and  forever ! "  She  had  borne  so  much,  but  this 
she  could  not  bear!  The  child  meant  what  he  said; 
she  knew  that,  for  she  knew  that  he  was  of  the 
temperament  to  bear  the  burden  of  a  grudge  for 
long. 

"  Wait  here,  Malcolm,"  she  said,  with  a  calmness 
which  was  all  assumed,  "  I  will  speak  to  your  uncle ; " 
and  she  left  him  and  crossed  the  hall,  but  twice  she 
swayed  as  she  passed  from  room  to  room. 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

And  still  she  did  not  look  for  aid  to  the  Power 
which  alone  can  help  man  in  his  greatest  need! 

Entering  the  study,  she  shut  the  door  and  waited 
for  a  moment  silently  before  her  brother.  Though 
neither  knew  it  then,  she  stood  at  the  cross-roads  in 
her  life  and  chose  the  one  that  leads  to  death. 

For  still  she  did  not  look  for  succour  to  the  Power 
which  held  it  ready  to  her  hand,  could  she  but  have 
trusted  all  to  Love. 

A  voice  finally  broke  the  silence.  Seemingly  the 
voice  was  not  her  own;  and  yet  it  must  be;  but  she 
thought  she  heard  it  from  a  distance,  as  though  an- 
other spoke. 

"  I  have  come  to  say,  .  .  .  the  choice  appears 
to  lie  between  Christian  Science  and  the  love  of  my 
child;  I  choose,"  she  moistened  her  lips,  and  Robert 
had  to  bend  a  little  forward  to  hear  the  last  few  words, 
"  I  choose — God  forgive  me  for  it — I  choose  the — 
love — of — my — child !  " 

As  she  spoke  those  last  words,  Winnie  stood  for  a 
moment  upright,  then  slowly  she  leant  back,  still  hold- 
ing herself  rigidly  straight,  against  the  closed  door: 
suddenly  she  threw  out  an  arm  upon  either  side,  and 
with  nervous  grasp  held  each  lintel  fast.  Her  face 
was  drawn,  and  quite  slowly  her  eyelids  dropped  upon 
her  eyes.  Her  white  dress  hung  in  straight  folds  about 
her,  and  thus  her  figure  formed  the  impress  of  a  human 
cross  against  the  dark  oak  panels. 

Robert  leant  forward  and  called  her  sharply  by  her 
name,  and,  at  that  moment,  a  picture  was  painted 
upon  his  mind  which  was  one  day  to  arise  and  torture 
him,  as  he  had  tortured  Winnie;  full  measure  he  one 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         219 

day    received — "  good    measure,    pressed    down,    and 
shaken  together." 

Even  now  he  suffered,  though  he  would  not  let  his 
sister  see  it.  This  thing  that  God  demanded  of  him, 
was  almost  the  hardest  He  had  asked  as  yet;  but  He 
should  not  find  him  wanting — he  would  obey.  Rather 
had  he  plucked  out  his  right  eye  than  hurt  the  sister 
whom  he  loved;  but  God  ordered  otherwise  and — he 
must  obey.  He  must  recall  this  straying  lamb  and 
bring  her  back,  if  need  be,  by  the  scourge  and  cross 
into  the  only  true  fold. 

Three  doctors  stood  around  her  bed,  but  Winnie  took 
no  note  of  them ;  "  The  wages  of  sin,"  she  murmured, 
through  parched  and  quickly  moving  lips,  "  the  wages 
of  sin  is  death ; "  and  once,  and  once  again,  "  whoso- 
ever killeth  you  shall  think  that  he  doeth  God  service." 

Four  black  frock  coats !  Three  kind  and  thoughtful 
faces,  the  fourth,  stern  and  white. 

"  And  what,"  Mr.  Saul  asked,  "  has  caused  my  sis- 
ter's death?" 

"  Undoubtedly  some  shock."  One  man  answered  for 
all,  and  all  agreed.  Then  he  continued,  "  There  is 
every  appearance  of  great  nervous  suffering.  Doubt- 
less," he  added  kindly,  "  Mrs.  Stuart  felt  her  hus- 
band's sudden  death  very  much.  I  was  attending  her 
when  she  received  the  news,  you  remember." 

"  Her  husband's  death ! "  Robert  seemed  to  him- 
self to  laugh,  but  in  a  horrid,  silent  way.  His  face, 
he  knew,  was  grave  and  motionless.  Her  husband  had 
died  a  year  ago  and  more! 


S20         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

"Yes,"  he  answered  steadily,  deliberately  accen- 
tuating what  he  knew  to  be  a  lie.  "  No  doubt,  it  was 
*  her  husband's  death ' ;  "  and  it  seemed  to  him  that 
something  within  him  laughed  again,  but  this  time 
louder  than  before,  for  had  he  not  seen  Winnie  bright 
and  well  only  a  week  ago — a  year  and  more  after  her 
husband's  death! 


Poor  Winnie — poor  weak  child — tried  in  the  fire  and 
found  wanting!  Gouldst  thou  but  have  borne  the 
cross  and  despised  the  shame  a  little  longer,  Love  held 
for  thee  a  glorious  crown.  Poor  little  suffering  one, 
fast-locked  within  the  deep  mesmeric  sleep,  close 
prisoned  in  the  vault  of  dark  oblivion,  while  yet  on 
earth!  .  .  .  Death  has  delayed  thy  journey  upwards 
for  awhile,  for  thou  hast  bowed  to  him,  while  man 
should  bend  the  knee  to  Life  and  Life  alone.  Poor 
little  one !  Death,  man's  most  cruel  and  relentless  foe, 
cannot  but  darken  his  path,  and  turn  his  face  from  God. 
Let  him  not  dream  that  it  will  help  him  to  ascend; 
rather  does  it  drag  him  down  and  rock  him  deeper 
in  the  Adam-sleep.  False  friend,  made  all  of  lies! 
But  take  thou  heart,  dear  little  one.  God  is  every- 
where and  loves  thee  well.  I  know  not  where  thou  art, 
nor  upon  what  plane  of  thought  thy  work  must  now 
be  done.  But  this  I  know,  that  God  is  everywhere 
and  waits  to  wrap  thee  in  His  love.  The  problem  has 
been  worked  out  wrong  and  must  be  done  aright ;  but 
the  Principle  remains  the  same,  and  thou  must  start 
afresh  and  do  thy  work  again.  Fear  thou  not,  but  turn 
thy  face  about  and  speed  thy  faltering  steps  towards 
the  throne  of  grace.  Thy  recantation  has  cost  thee 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

idear  and  made  thy  journey  longer  than  it  need  have 
been ;  but  fear  thou  not.  For  unto  seventy  times  seven 
shalt  thou  be  forgiven.  Listen,  little  sister!  Thou 
didst  fear,  and  fear  is  sin.  .  .  .  But  much  more 
did  thy  brother  sin  against  thee  even  unto  death.  But 
to  what  hast  thou  succumbed?  To  naught  but  to  a 
false  and  uncrowned  king;  to  naught  but  to  a  great 
usurper  whom  men  obey,  because  they  think  they  must. 

Awake!  Awake!  thou  Christian  world.  Rise  up 
and  kill  the  devil  Fear,  who  chains  thee  prostrate  to 
the  earth,  before  this  phantom  king,  whom  men  call 
Death.  But  where  then  is  his  sceptre?  and  who  gave 
it  him?  What  then  is  his  mandate?  where  his  juris- 
diction? Who  gave  him  either?  What  then  is  this 
thing  which  men  call  Death?  In  truth,  'tis  nothing 
but  delusion,  a  thing  of  naught,  because  it  comes  not 
from  the  only  God ;  what  is  it  but  a  giant  lie,  child  of 
the  devil — False  Belief. 

Oh,  haste  thee,  haste!  thou  Christian  world,  arise 
and  pray.  Wrap  thee  round  in  robes  of  Light,  for 
only  thus  canst  thou  safely  war  against  the  lie.  Rise 
up  and  sweep  the  shadows  from  the  past.  In  holy 
rebellion,  rise  up  and  slay.  For  long  ago  the  fiat 
was  sent  forth !  "  Hear,  O  Israel :  the  Lord  Thy  God 
is  one  Lord."  There  is  no  other:  and,  "  God  is  not 
the  God  of  the  dead,  but  of  the  living."  Hear,  and 
understand,  thou  sleeping  world!  For,  ringing  down 
throughout  the  ages,  comes  the  mighty  voice  of  God, 
stirring  to  joyous  action  those  who  watch,  and  work, 
and  pray.  What  says  the  majesty  of  mind? — "Re- 
move the  diadem  and  take  off  the  crown,"  till  He 
whose  right  it  is  shall  reign.  Thus  shall  be  brought 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

to  pass  the  saying;  "Death  is  swallowed  up  in  vic- 
tory." Awake!  thou  sleeping  world,  and  hold  thy 
thought  to  Life,  for  thus  only  shall  the  corruptible 
become  the  incorruptible ;  thus  only  can  the  mortal  put 
on  immortality! 


CHAPTER   XXV 

HATE 

Something  the  heart  must  have  to  cherish, 

Must  love,  and  joy,  and  sorrow  learn. 
Something  with  passion  clasp  and  perish 

And  in  itself  to  ashes  burn. 

— Longfellow. 

MR.  SAUL  returned  from  his  sister's  funeral  feeling 
anxious  about  his  little  nephew.  Malcolm  had  not, 
to  his  knowledge,  shed  a  single  tear,  nor  had  he  volun- 
tarily made  a  remark,  since  his  mother's  death.  Rob- 
ert did  not  know  much  about  children  it  is  true,  but 
he  felt  that  it  would  have  been  more  natural  had 
the  child  cried  his  heart  out  for  a  day  or  two  and  then 
become  comparatively  cheerful.  But  Malcolm  was  at 
all  times  unlike  other  children,  and  his  uncle  was  puz- 
zled to  know  how  to  handle  him.  His  longing  was 
to  keep  the  boy  by  his  side,  for  it  was  only  now  that 
he  began  to  realise  how  lonely  he  himself  was,  and 
how  much  he  had  formerly  depended  upon  Winnie's 
gentle,  loving  presence.  So  far  he  had  found  him- 
self quite  unable  to  settle  down  to  his  usual  routine 
of  work  or  reading.  Instead  of  spending  some  hours 
a  day  in  his  study,  he  moved  restlessly  from  room  to 
room,  writing  a  note  here,  reading  a  few  chapters  of 
some  book  there.  At  times  he  would  suddenly  leave 
the  house  and  take  a  long  walk,  usually  very  late  at 


THE     SEAMLESS    ROBE 

night,  when  the  streets  were  comparatively  deserted. 
It  was  at  this  period  of  Robert  Saul's  life  that  this 
restless  habit  first  became  established ;  later  it  ruled 
him  against  his  will,  as  the  despot  rules  the  slave, 
calling  him  forth  night  after  night  while  others  slept. 
Just  now  the  mental  disturbance  caused  by  his  sister's 
sudden  death  was  accentuated  by  a  shock  which  he 
received  soon  afterwards. 

A  foreign  letter,  bearing  many  postmarks,  was 
handed  to  him  one  evening  by  the  postman  as  he  en- 
tered his  house.  It  was  addressed  to  Mrs.  Stuart, 
care  of  her  Calcutta  agent.  Upon  opening  it,  Mr. 
Saul  found  that  it  bore  the  signatures  of  a  firm  of 
lawyers  in  China.  He  had  barely  read  two  lines,  be- 
fore he  let  the  thin  sheet  of  closely  written  notepaper 
flutter  to  the  floor.  But  he  was  not  the  man  to  shirk 
an  unpleasant  duty,  and  so  he  picked  up  the  letter 
and  read  it  to  the  end. 

That  night  he  sat  in  his  study  for  hours  and  fought 
out  a  big  fight.  The  early  morning  found  him  in  his 
great  armchair  and  still  awake.  At  last  he  roused 
himself  from  his  long  reverie  and  put  the  letter  away 
in  his  most  private  drawer. 

'*  I  will  invest  it  well  for  the  boy,"  he  thought,  "  so 
that  when  he  is  of  age  he  will  come  into  his  own 
with  interest.  But  I  will  not  tell  him  that  he  has 
been  left  his  paternal  uncle's  heir.  I  am  his  guardian, 
and  he  shall  believe  himself  to  be  dependent  upon  me; 
and  thus  he  will  learn  to  lean  upon  me,  and  love  me 
better  than  anyone  else  in  all  the  world!  I  will  be  to 
him  a  father,  and  he  shall  be  to  me  a  son,  and  all 
I  shall  ever  ask  in  return  will  be  his  love  and  his 
obedience." 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         225 

Something  Robert  Saul  must  have  to  love,  but  that 
something  must  be  all  his  own  and  must  love  him 
supremely  and,  loving,  must  lean  upon  him  and  obey 
him  first  of  all. 

What  more,  Robert  Saul,  could  you  ask  of  anyone? 
and  what  hope  have  you  that  you  will  gain  either  love 
or  obedience  by  initiating  a  course  of  deception  un- 
worthy of  your  love?  Yet  so  closely  does  error  ape 
the  word  of  Good  that  this  man,  hungering  right- 
eously enough  for  the  innocent  love  of  a  little  child, 
believed  himself  to  be  using  means  justified  by  the  end 
in  view.  Self-mesmerism !  Arch-deception !  what  evil 
is  there  to  equal  the  work  of  thy  mesmeric  hand? 

From  this  moment  Mr.  Saul  deteriorated  morally, 
though  so  subtle  is  the  lie,  that  he  recognised  no 
downward  step  until  one  day,  when  bound  and  mana- 
cled with  sin,  he  looked  back  at  that  which  he  once 
had  been;  aye,  and  at  that  which  he  had  meant  to  be! 

It  was  a  week  since  Winnie's  funeral,  and  Robert 
Saul  called  Malcolm  into  his  study  and  told  him  that 
he  had  decided  not  to  send  him  back  to  school,  but 
himself  to  prepare  him  for  Winchester. 

The  boy's  face  fell,  but  the  iron  of  poverty  had 
ground  quickly  and  deeply  into  his  heart,  and  he 
supposed  that  it  would  save  his  uncle  money,  and  that 
therefore  he  could  not  protest.  For  was  he  not  penni- 
less and  dependent  for  his  very  food  upon  his  gener- 
osity? Remembering  later  that  Mr.  Saul  was  both 
rich  and  kind,  he  was  puzzled,  and  inclined  to  discard 
this  explanation  of  his  uncle's  action,  but  no  other 
occurred  to  the  child's  mind,  and  so,  as  is  often  the 
case,  viewing  the  matter  from  a  wrong  point,  he 
accepted  an  erroneous  conclusion. 


226         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

That  night  Malcolm  had  been  in  bed  quite  an  hour 
but  was  not  sleeping,  when  Mr.  Saul  came  into  his 
room  and  sat  beside  his  bed. 

"  Little  man,"  he  said  very  kindly,  "  I  have  come 
to  tell  you  that  you  and  I  are  both  lonely  people  now, 
so  shall  we  not  love  each  other  a  great  deal  and  take 
each  other  away  for  the  Christmas  holidays  ?  To  Italy 
perhaps !  And  then " 

"  Shall  I  live  with  you  always,  Uncle  Robert?  "  the 
child  interrupted,  fixing  large  dry  eyes  upon  the  man 
who  now  bent  over  his  bed  and  kissed  him  so  tenderly. 

"  Always,  Malcolm,  except  when  you  are  at  your 
public  school  and  afterwards  at  the  University." 

"  And  I  shall  not  grow  up  a  dunce,  or  be  very,  very 
poor?  " 

Mr.  Saul  winced  as  he  heard  the  child  repeat  his 
own  words. 

"  No,  Malcolm,"  he  answered  quickly,  "  you  shall 
have  a  splendid  education  and  be  quite  rich  one  day." 

With  a  half  hysterical  embrace,  which  Robert  took 
for  the  manifestation  of  pure  affection,  the  boy  put 
both  arms  round  his  uncle's  neck  and  clung  to  him. 

"  Oh,"  he  cried,  choking  with  dry,  unchildlike  sobs, 
"  I  am  so  glad  I  have  got  you,  Uncle  Robert." 

Mr.  Saul  did  not  answer,  but  laid  the  little  lad  back 
upon  his  bed  and  sat  by  his  side  for  a  few  moments 
longer,  soothing  and  comforting  him  with  words  so 
loving  and  so  gentle  that  they  would  have  amazed 
even  those  who  knew  him  best. 

It  was  dusk  now,  and  neither  perceived  the  figure  of 
a  woman  in  nurse's  uniform  standing  outside  the  bed- 
room door.  She  stood  listening  intently  to  every  word 
that  passed,  and  as  she  listened,  her  hard  and  colour- 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         227 

less  face  took  on  a  calculating  look.  Mr.  Saul  was 
now  singing  to  the  child  in  low,  melodious  tones  a 
beautiful  lullaby,  and  as  he  sang  he  gently  smoothed 
the  boy's  thick  hair.  The  woman  turned  cautiously 
and  crept  quietly  downstairs. 

Lifting  her  small  bag  from  the  hall  chair,  she  pulled 
down  her  veil  and  let  herself  out  of  the  front  door. 

"  Good-bye,"  she  said  to  the  butler,  who  entered 
the  hall  at  that  moment,  "  I  am  called  to  another  case, 
which,  from  all  I  hear,  will  end  as  this  has  done.  I 
will  send  for  my  box."  She  walked  swiftly  down  the 
street  and  summoned  a  passing  hansom.  Giving  her 
directions  to  the  driver,  she  glanced  up  to  make  sure 
that  the  trapdoor  was  shut  before  she  drew  an  envelope 
from  her  pocket ;  opening  it,  she  took  out  a  letter  and 
read  it  once  through.  "  Yes,"  she  decided,  "  I  shall 
risk  it, — two  birds  in  the  bush  for  me,  especially  as 
I  am  not  sure  of  the  one  in  the  hand !  A  year  hence, 
perhaps  sooner,  this  should  be  worth  a  lot  of  money," 
and  she  replaced  the  sheet  of  white  paper,  upon  each 
side  of  which  a  few  lines  were  written,  in  its  cover 
and  carefully  locked  it  away  in  her  bag. 

Arriving  at  her  destination,  this  woman  took  into 
the  sick  room,  where  love  was  the  supreme  need,  a 
depressing  mental  atmosphere  of  death,  dishonesty  and 
greed. 

But  here  let  us  pause  long  enough  to  pay  a  loving 
tribute  to  those  numberless  good  women — those  other 
nurses  who  lay  down  their  lives  in  ceaseless  labour 
for  the  sick,  ministering  to  the  mind  and  body  diseased. 
With  quiet  heroism,  which  lets  not  the  left  hand  know 
what  the  right  hand  doeth,  they  hourly  perform  duties 
which  exhaust  the  nerves  and  wear  out  the  body. 


228         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

Only  one  who  has  been  soothed  by  the  gentleness  and 
love  of  some  such  ministering  sister,  can  realise  how 
earnestly  they  endeavour  to  ease  the  world's  great  pain. 
To  them,  let  all  gratitude  and  honour  be  freely  given. 
But,  oh!  the  pity  of  it!  that  they  should  not  know, 
or  knowing,  should  not  choose  the  better  way,  for 
thus  man  finds  that  obedient  to  the  law  of  Justice 
and  of  Love  his  strength  is  ever  equal  to  his  need. 


CHAPTER   XXVI 

CASTLES  BUILT  UPON  SHIFTING  SANDS 

Unless  you  can  love  as  the  angels  may,    .    .    .    O  do  not 
call  it  loving. 

— Mrs.  Browning. 

MALCOLM  and  his  uncle  spent  the  first  part  of  the 
Christmas  holidays  in  Italy,  that  land  of  silvern  sky 
and  blue  water.  Together  they  took  long  walks  and 
held  sage,  old-fashioned  converse  among  the  orange 
groves  of  Rapallo.  Sometimes  the  child,  who  had  an 
ardent  beauty-loving  nature,  would  hold  the  man's 
hand  hard  and  pause  to  bury  his  face  deep  in  a  thick 
cluster  of  tea  roses,  whose  lovely  buds  of  palest  terra- 
cotta, creaming  into  white,  charmed  him  by  the  beauty 
of  their  curves  and  colour,  and  the  delicacy  of  their 
rich  perfume.  From  Italy  they  went  to  Crete,  to 
Athens,  and  to  Smyrna ;  and  closer  grew  the  bond 
between  them.  As  tenderly  as  any  woman  could  have 
done,  this  stern  man,  who  scarcely  spoke  to  anyone, 
cared  for  the  motherless  child.  Father  and  son,  all 
supposed  them  to  be.  Malcolm  developed  during  this 
journey  into  a  perpetual  note  of  interrogation,  but  he 
never  seemed  to  weary  his  kind  guardian.  Sometimes, 
a  rare  delight,  he  would  be  allowed  to  sit  up  late,  and 
then  beautiful  talks  about  nature's  mysteries  above, 
below,  and  all  around  them  would  ensue. 

299 


230         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

Mr.  Saul  delighted  in  giving  instruction  to  the  child, 
who  was  remarkably  clever.  It  was  pure  pleasure  to 
this  reticent  man  to  unfold  his  ideas  before  a  condition 
of  mind  so  receptive  as  was  Malcolm's.  He  promised 
himself  the  joy  of  preparing  the  boy  for  a  brilliant 
career.  He  would — certainly  must — take  a  scholar- 
ship at  Winchester  and,  later,  at  the  University.  Time 
enough  then,  to  decide  in  what  line  he  should  specialise, 
but  not  unnaturally,  Mr.  Saul  mentally  mapped  out  a 
life  of  honour  and  renown  in  the  Church  of  England 
for  him.  Thus  Malcolm  daily  became  more  and  more 
an  integral  part  of  his  uncle's  inmost  life. 

And  if  a  gnawing  doubt  would  sometimes  whisper 
in  the  man's  ear,  he  quickly  and  sternly  ordered  it 
away.  What  if  Malcolm's  face  was  pale?  What  if 
deep  rings  of  violet  marked  a  circle  beneath  his  eyes? 
His  mother's  skin  had  been  extremely  fair,  and  so 
was  Malcolm's,  that  was  all!  This  constant  travel- 
ling was  perhaps  too  exciting  for  so  intelligent  a  child. 
They  would  go  home  and  settle  down  to  steady  work, 
and  then  the  boy  would  eat  and  sleep  like  others  of 
his  age. 

Work,  Robert  Saul!  when  all  the  time  the  child 
is  needing  childish  play  and  the  rough  and  tumble  of 
a  schoolboy's  life!  O  fond  and  blind!  Letting  thy 
every  wish  be  father  to  thy  thought !  Does  no  memory 
stir  within  thy  heart?  Hast  thou  forgotten  that 
other  boy,  too  sensitive  of  nerve,  too  large  of  head, 
who  stood,  as  Malcolm  stands  to-day,  the  victim  of  a 
hot-bed  growth?  That  boy  (thou  surely  must  remem- 
ber!) was  saved  by  the  normal  life  of  boyish  games 
and  the  give-and-take  of  boarding  school.  Hast  thou 
forgotten  that  picture  of  the  past?  Then  it  would 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         231 

seem  that  some  sharp  reminder  should  come  thy  way 
before  it  is  too  late! 

Mr.  Saul  and  his  little  ward  returned  to  London 
in  January  and  soon  settled  down  into  a  regular  rou- 
tine of  lessons,  at  which  the  child  worked  so  well  and 
so  willingly  that  his  uncle  never  guessed  that  the  demon 
pride  was  urging  him  on  beyond  his  strength.  How 
should  he  guess?  He  knew  nothing  of  the  scalding 
tears  which  fell,  night  after  night,  as  the  weary  little 
head  calculated  for  the  twentieth  time  how  soon  he 
could  be  finished  with  his  education  and  earn  the  money 
for  his  keep ;  for  then,  he  cried  in  childish  ignorance, 
I  will  soon  pay  Uncle  Robert  back  all  that  I  cost  him 
now. 

Yet  he  loved  his  uncle  in  a  sort  of  famished  way ; 
and  would  have  loved  him  more,  had  not  something 
held  him  back ;  what  this  something  was  he  did  not 
know,  for  childlike  he  never  analysed  the  wall  which 
pride,  and  a  man's  mistake,  had  built  between  them. 
Then  one  day  Mr.  Saul  met  Lady  Margaret  Courcy 
at  the  house  of  a  mutual  friend,  and  for  a  time  he 
became  less  observant  of  Malcolm.  Remembering  that 
Margaret  Courcy's  house  was  always  open  to  him,  he 
upbraided  himself  in  that  he  had  not  sooner  made  use 
of  her  to  forward  his  great  desire. 

"  Fool ! "  he  exclaimed  beneath  his  breath,  "  not 
to  have  thought  of  this  before." 

The  next  day  he  called  upon  her,  for,  he  argued, 
surely  he  must  sooner  or  later  meet  Cecil  Gwynne 
there. 

But  he  did  not  meet  her,  nor  did  Lady  Margaret 
ever  mention  her.  Repeated  disappointments  made 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

him  impatient,  and  finally  he  spoke  to  Lady  Mar- 
garet of  the  matter  near  his  heart. 

"  I  want,"  he  said,  "  your  help ;  I  believe  that  I 
was  hasty,  even  prejudiced  perhaps,  when  I  broke  off 
my  engagement  with  Lady  Cecil.  I  wish  now  to  dis- 
cuss the  matter  with  her,  for  as  she  said  that  day, 
*  Surely  there  must  be  some  way  out  of  the  difficulty.' 
I  will  enter  into  the  detail  of  Christian  Science  with 
her  and  discuss  it  with  an  open  mind,  and  maybe  I 
shall  find  that  I  was  wrong.  Will  you  help  me,"  he 
added  earnestly,  "  and  arrange  a  meeting  in  this 
house?  " 

The  request  was  frankly  proffered,  but  Margaret 
Courcy  knew  Mr.  Saul  well,  and  knew  him  to  be  a  man 
not  easily  moved  from  a  position  once  assumed. 

She  paused  long  before  answering  him ;  then  lifting 
her  clear  eyes  to  his,  "  No,"  she  said  gently,  "  I  cannot 
do  that."  There  was  no  hesitation  in  her  voice  and 
Mr.  Saul  understood  her  perfectly.  The  blood  flew 
into  his  face,  and  shame  dropped  the  lids  upon  his 
eyes. 

Lady  Margaret  knew  that  he  had  lied;  knew  that 
his  mind  was  no  more  open  now  than  it  had  been 
upon  the  day  when  he  called  this  thing  a  "  blasphe- 
mous creed " ;  knew  that  he  so  desired  to  win  Cecil 
Gwynne  for  his  wife  that  he,  Robert  Saul,  had  stooped 
to  the  use  of  a  subterfuge! 

He  had  not  fully  known  this  himself,  until  he  stood 
there  silently  awaiting  Margaret  Courcy's  answer. 
Now  he  saw  himself  as  something  to  be  despised,  and 
it  angered  him  and  caused  him  stubbornly  to  pursue 
his  purpose.  He  declared  that  the  end  should  justify 
the  means,  and  that  the  regaining  of  a  woman  such  as 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         233 

Cecil  Gwynne  to  the  true  faith  was  a  work  which  God 
would  surely  bless. 

He  left  Lady  Margaret's  house,  and  went  direct  to 
Grosvenor  Square. 

"  Lord  Brecon  ?  "  he  asked.  The  man  immediately 
opened  the  library  door  and  showed  him  in.  The 
Earl  was  there  and  for  a  long  time  they  talked,  but 
there  was  never  any  question  as  to  how  the  interview 
would  end.  Mr.  Saul  was  by  far  the  clever  man  of  the 
two,  and  Lord  Brecon,  his  mind  more  immersed  than 
ever  in  his  books,  was  all  unready  to  meet  a  situation 
so  unexpected  as  that  which  his  old  friend  now  pre- 
sented to  him.  So  it  happened  that  when  Cecil  en- 
tered the  drawing-room  at  five  o'clock  that  day,  she 
found  her  brother  and  Mr.  Saul  standing  by  the  fire, 
chatting  quietly  while  they  awaited  the  arrival  of 
the  tea  tray. 

Her  face  grew  suddenly  grave, ,  for,  in  all  the  world, 
no  meeting  was  more  unexpected  than  this.  She  went 
forward,  however,  and  greeted  Mr.  Saul  so  calmly  that 
he  was  a  little  disappointed,  as  he  watched  her  nar- 
rowly while  she  busied  herself  with  her  duties  at  the 
table. 

He  was  surprised  to  find  how  difficult  the  situation 
had  suddenly  become.  He  had  not  realised  that  the 
touch  of  Cecil's  hand  would  throw  him  back  so  com- 
pletely into  the  past.  He  found  that  he  spoke  with 
embarrassment,  and  was  inclined  to  let  Lord  Brecon 
and  his  sister  sustain  the  conversation.  Lady  Cecil's 
perfect  self-possession,  however,  inevitably  set  him  at 
ease,  and  soon  the  three  were  discussing  matters  of 
common  interest  to  the  world  in  which  they  moved. 
He  was,  however,  inwardly  excited  to  a  degree  quite 


234         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

beyond  his  experience  of  himself,  and  was  consequently 
glad  to  fall  in  with  Lord  Brecon's  suggestion  that 
they  should  walk  as  far  as  his  club  together. 

Bidding  his  hostess  a  formal  adieu,  he  left  the  room 
with  the  Earl,  but  not  until  he  had  accepted  an  invi- 
tation to  lunch  at  Grosvenor  Square  the  next  day. 

Lord  Brecon  gave  the  invitation,  but  asked  his 
sister  so  pointedly  whether  she  would  be  at  home,  that 
courtesy  compelled  her  to  second  it. 

In  this  way  it  came  about  that  the  following  day 
found  Cecil  Gwynne  and  Robert  Saul  alone  together 
once  more.  Robert  had  quietly  entered  the  drawing- 
room  when  the  Earl  retreated  to  his  library  directly 
after  luncheon.  It  was  not  Mr.  Saul's  way  to  beat 
about  the  bush,  and  immediately  he  found  himself 
alone  with  Cecil  Gwynne,  he  told  hei*  why  he  was 
there. 

"  I  have  come,"  he  spoke  calmly,  though  he  found 
that  his  voice  was  not  entirely  under  control,  "  to 
ask  you  if  you  will  explain  Christian  Science  to  me. 
I  have  been  brought  into  close  contact  with  it  of  late 
and  I  want  to  know  more  about  it."  So  cleverly 
does  self-deception  do  its  work  that  for  the  moment 
he  meant  what  he  said,  and  believed,  or  almost  be- 
lieved, that  he  had  brought  with  him  an  open  mind. 

Cecil  Gwynne  hesitated.  That  which  had  seemed 
possible  to  her  a  year  ago  was  no  longer  so,  for  her 
growth,  though  slow,  had  been  straight  and  sure. 
Some  higher  motive  must  be  the  impelling  and  com- 
pelling force,  before  she  could  respond  to  any  such 
request  as  Robert  now  made.  Still,  who  was  she  to 
judge  her  brother  hastily?  So  she  talked  to  him 
of  that  which  had  become  her  very  life,  and  so  en- 


THE     SEAMLESS    ROBE         235 

grossed  was  she  by  the  interest  of  her  subject,  that 
the  man  to  whom  she  spoke  became  to  her  simply 
as  one  who  needed  help,  and  in  so  far  as  it  was  purely 
personal,  the  past  and  future  faded  from  her  thought. 

But  it  was  not  so  with  Robert  Saul.  He  scarcely 
heard  a  word  she  said.  Indeed  he  made  no  further 
effort  than  that  demanded  by  common  politeness  to 
take  part  in  the  conversation,  but  gave  himself  up  to 
the  pleasure  of  once  more  being  with  Cecil  Gwynne. 
More  desirable  than  ever  she  seemed  to  him  to  be; 
and  he  watched  her  as  she  sat  there,  with  the  bright 
light  of  the  fire  playing  round  her  feet  and  making 
dancing  shadows  upon  her  dress. 

Outside  the  air  was  hopelessly  darkened  by  a  fog, 
unusually  dense  even  for  London,  and  Cecil  had  early 
ordered  the  curtains  to  be  drawn.  The  room  was  full 
of  light  and  colour,  for  she  loved  both  and  had  the 
rare  gift  of  filling  her  rooms  with  them  to  an  extent 
which  created  contentment,  but  never  a  sense  of  sur- 
feit, even  in  the  minds  of  the  most  critical  of  her 
visitors.  Robert,  seated  luxuriously  upon  a  couch,  aban- 
doned himself  to  the  joy  of  the  hour.  He  deliberately 
silenced  each  scruple  that  arose  and  faced  him,  and, 
as  he  watched  Cecil's  sweet  face,  now  grave,  now  full 
of  joy,  he  thought  only  of  his  love  for  her  and  scarcely 
heard  a  word  she  said.  She  loves  me,  he  thought,  and 
is  glad  that  I  have  come.  Thus  egotism  whispered  in 
his  ear  and  filled  his  heart  with  that  which  he  wished  to 
believe  the  truth. 

That  was  a  red  letter  day  for  Robert  Saul,  or  so 
he  thought  at  the  time. 

He  returned  home  to  find  Malcolm  eagerly  awaiting 
him  at  the  tea  table. 


236         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

"  Look,  Uncle !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  what  I  have  done." 

Mr.  Saul  took  the  paper  which  the  boy  held  out, 
and  even  he,  who  knew  the  child  so  well,  was  surprised 
at  that  which  the  young  hand  had  laid  upon  it. 

"  My  boy,"  he  said  gravely,  "  this  is  excellent,  and 
I  am  very  pleased." 

Commendation  was  rare  from  his  uncle,  and  Mal- 
colm's eyes  glistened  as  he  slowly  waded  through  the 
bread  and  butter  which  his  uncle  placed  before  him. 
He  was  not  hungry,  he  seldom  was,  and  he  knew  that 
if  he  dawdled  long  enough  over  one  slice  he  would  not 
be  observed,  nor  told  to  take  a  second. 

After  the  boy  had  gone  to  bed,  Mr.  Saul  examined 
the  problem  which  Malcolm  had  both  set  down  and 
worked  out,  unaided,  during  his  absence  that  after- 
noon, and  he  realised  that  it  was  indeed  a  remarkable 
achievement  for  a  child  so  young.  How  thankful  he 
was  that  the  boy  had  brains !  Stupidity  was  at  all 
times  trying  to  him,  but  in  his  ward  it  would  have  been 
unbearable. 

While  he  sat  over  his  desert  that  night,  he  received 
a  letter  from  his  lawyers  suggesting  to  him  a  most 
advantageous  investment  for  Malcolm's  fortune.  It 
seemed  certain  to  yield  a  handsome  increase.  The  boy 
would  be  rich  one  day!  The  capital  still  remained  in 
the  bankers'  hands,  for  Mr.  Saul  was  the  last  man  to 
move  hurriedly  in  the  matter  of  another's  money,  and 
he  must  assure  himself  of  the  safety  of  any  proposed 
investment,  before  he  would  withdraw  one  penny  of  the 
child's  newly  acquired  wealth  from  the  safe  keeping  of 
the  bank. 

Yes,  things  were  brightening  indeed.  Soon  Cecil 
would  be  his  wife — how  had  he  ever  dreamed  of  life 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         237 

without  her? — and  Malcolm,  the  dear  little  lad,  as 
happy  as  ever  he  had  been  with  Winnie's  arms  about 
him.  For  Cecil  would  love  him  and  care  for  him  as 
though  he  were  her  own.  Years  hence,  when  Malcolm 
should  be  like  a  son  to  them  both,  Robert  would  tell 
him  of  this  rich  legacy  and  delight  him  with  his  own 
with  interest.  But  he  would  not  tell  him  yet,  for  he 
wished  the  child  to  turn  to  him  for  everything,  and 
thus  learn  to  lean  upon  him  for  every  need. 

.  .  .  And  all  the  time  a  woman,  colourless  and 
hard  of  face,  with  evil  in  her  heart,  held  a  slip  of 
paper  which  might  any  day  meet  his  eye  and  in  one 
moment  cut  asunder  bonds  never  bound  by  Truth. 

But  Mr.  Saul  knew  nothing  of  this,  and  so  he 
smiled  as  he  sipped  the  one  glass  of  excellent  claret 
which  was  all  that  he  ever  drank  at  night,  and  wove 
bright  fancies  into  a  radiant  whole,  which  soon  he 
meant  to  call  his  own.  • 


THE  FLOOD-TIDE 
There  is  death  in  the  pot. 


— 77.  Kings. 


BUT  very  soon  Mr.  Saul  found  that  he  had  miscal- 
culated his  powers  of  self-control.  Since  the  day  upon 
which  he  had  lunched  at  Grosvenor  Square,  he  had 
failed  to  find  Lady  Cecil  Gwynne  disengaged;  he  saw 
her  and  spoke  to  her  often,  but  always  in  the  presence 
of  others,  and  he  felt  that  he  was  not  progressing  in 
the  least. 

To  be  much  with  her  and  not  to  betray  his  purpose 
became  each  day  more  impossible.  Then  at  last  chance 
seemed  to  favour  him.  Indeed  it  appeared  to  him  to 
be  more  than  chance,  for  it  seemed  to  him  that  Lady 
Cecil  deliberately  made  an  opportunity  for  them  to  be 
alone  together.  This,  to  a  man  of  his  temperament, 
with  his  whole  thought  held  fast  to  the  one  objective, 
could  only  indicate  one  thing,  and  he  instantly  con- 
cluded that  Cecil  Gwynne  was  as  desirous  of  holding 
close  converse  with  him,  as  he  was  anxious  to  be  alone 
with  her.  Thus,  with  the  precipitation  which  had 
already  cost  him  dear,  he  did  not  wait  to  feel  his 
way,  but  told  her  that  he  found  himself  quite  unable 
to  live  without  her,  and  that  he  had  determined  not 
to  allow  any  difference  in  their  religious  opinions  to 
stand  between  them. 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         239 

"  Do  you  mean,"  Lady  Cecil  asked,  as  soon  as 
her  astonishment  permitted  of  speech,  "  that  you  are 
prepared  to  marry  a  Christian  Scientist?" 

"  I  mean,"  he  answered  impetuously,  "  that  I  am 
prepared  to  marry  you  under  any  circumstances.  I 
plead  only  for  as  little  delay  as  possible." 

But  Cecil  Gwynne,  though  she  knew  that  she  would 
never  love  any  man  as  she  loved  Robert  Saul,  knew 
also  that  such  a  marriage  could  not  lead  to  anything 
but  pain.  Her  religion  had  become  to  her  the  essen- 
tial of  her  life,  inseparable  from  the  practical  details 
thereof;  and  she  saw  that  Robert  did  not  in  the  least 
understand  this.  She  realised  instantly  that  he  hoped, 
once  they  were  married,  to  mould  her  views  to  his. 
This  she  knew  he  could  never  do ;  and  she  felt  certain 
that  he  would — once  the  first  flush  of  his  happiness  in 
possessing  her  were  over — try  to  do  so  and  would 
spare  no  effort  to  bend  her  will  to,  his.  Much  of  this 
she  tried  to  tell  him,  but  he  would  not  take  the  answer 
which  she  finally  gave  him. 

He  wrote  to  her  that  night  a  letter  full  of  passionate 
pleading,  even  humble  in  its  tone — a  letter  into  which 
the  starving  man  threw  himself  whole-souled.  Every 
line  lived  with  the  force  of  his  love  for  her,  every  word 
throbbed  with  his  longing  for  her.  Always  eloquent, 
that  night  he  surpassed  himself.  He  was,  for  the 
time  being,  moved  out  of  himself  and  lifted  into  a  realm 
of  unprejudiced  thought  and  unselfed  love. 

For  a  day  and  a  night,  and  half  a  day,  Cecil 
Gwynne  carried  the  letter  with  her;  and  her  face  grew 
stern  and  a  little  hard,  by  reason  of  the  battle  that 
raged  within  her  heart. 

If  she  could  only  be  sure  that  Robert  would  keep 


240         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

his  word  and  leave  her  free  to  worship  where  she 
would!  But  she  knew  him  well;  knew  that,  though 
he  loved  her,  he  loved  power  too,  for  he  had  in  the 
course  of  years  formed  a  fixed  habit  of  personal  con- 
trol which  now  would  not  brook  denial. 

Thus  the  argument  went  on,  for  she  loved  him 
second  only  to  her  God.  Now  Sense  rose  up  and 
wooed  her  with  its  subtle  smile,  while  whispering  of 
the  joy  that  might  be  hers,  if  she  would  but  dare  to 
take  a  little  risk.  Then  with  soft  hand  it  touched 
another  chord  and  prophesied  of  a  loveless  life,  remind- 
ing her  that  she  had  never  loved  any  man  before,  nor 
would  again.  But  here  Spirit  made  swift  reply: — 
In  Science,  Man,  united  to  his  God,  cannot  be  unloved, 
for  he  that  dwells  in  God,  dwells  always  in  the  very 
arms  of  Love.  Then  once  more  Sense,  failing  to  en- 
tice, turned  its  double  face  about  and  made  mournful 
moan  of  a  lone  old  age  preceded  by  those  years  of  fad- 
ing girlhood,  wherein  a  woman,  despised  and  rejected 
of  mankind,  becomes  embittered  of  her  life.  But  clear 
and  sweet  there  sounded  in  her  heart  a  message  borne 
upon  angel  wings,  and  the  voice  of  Truth  spoke  soft 
and  low,  telling  her  of  those  who  serve  the  Master, 
and  serving,  learn  that  in  Science  there  is  no  age  nor 
fading  flower,  for  man's  calendar  must  wane  when 
comes  the  understanding  of  Eternity. 

That  afternoon  the  Earl  of  Brecon  sat  alone  deeply 
interested  in  the  book  before  him,  when  his  sister 
entered  the  library  and  said  abruptly,  "  I  am  going 
to  Invergach  for  a  week  and  shall  start  to-night." 

Lord  Brecon  looked  up  quickly.  "  So  suddenly  ?  " 
he  asked.  "I  .  .  .  "  then  he  immediately  changed 
his  tone  to  one  of  quiet  consent,  for  he  read  something, 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

though  not  all,  of  the  pain  in  his  sister's  eyes.  "  I 
will  see  you  off.  Have  you  wired  to  Aunt  Eleanor?  " 

"  She  is  not  there,"  Cecil  replied,  as  she  quietly 
left  the  room.  "  She  started  for  Switzerland  to-day, 
and  I  am  glad,  for  I  would  rather  be  alone." 

The  Earl  did  not  speak  as  he  drove  to  the  station 
with  his  sister  that  evening.  Though  leading  a  nar- 
row, egotistical  life,  he  was  not  wanting  in  discern- 
ment, and  he  felt  himself  to  be  in  the  presence  of  one 
of  those  critical  situations  which  are  best  left  to  the 
management  of  those  primarily  concerned.  He  bought 
Cecil  a  quite  unnecessary  number  of  papers,  saw  that 
she  was  secure  from  intrusion,  himself  ordered  her 
every  comfort  of  which  he  could  think  for  the  journey, 
and  finally  stood  silently  beside  her  awaiting  the  depar- 
ture of  the  train. 

Cecil  was  grateful  for  his  attention.  The  footman 
or  her  maid  could  have  done  for  her  all  that  he  now 
did,  but  it  gave  her  comfort  to  realise  that  her  brother 
cared  enough  for  her  to  make  such  a  willing  sacrifice 
of  time  and  trouble.  To  a  man  of  Lord  Brecon's 
habits  it  was  a  considerable  sacrifice,  and  his  sister 
keenly  appreciated  his  tactful  kindness,  the  more  so, 
perhaps,  because  they  had  quite  consciously  drifted 
far  apart  during  the  last  year;  the  woman  steadily 
pursuing  her  search  for  Freedom's  larger  life,  while 
the  man  became  daily  more  closely  immeshed  in  toils 
of  human  mechanism.  For  years  he  had  been  intensely 
dissatisfied  with  his  religious  life  and  was  now  so  weary 
of  the  many  questions  to  which  he  could  obtain  no 
answer  that  he  was  rapidly  retiring  before  the  foe  and 
seeking  a  fictitious  peace  in  that  mental  supineness, 
which  is  unworthy  of  any  such  designation  as  that  of 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

peace.  But  there  is  a  vast  majority,  and  Lord  Brecon 
made  one  of  them,  who  believe  perfection  to  be  unat- 
tainable, and  therefore  accept  a  second  best,  when  all 
the  time  man's  birthright  entitles  him  to  perfect  good. 
His  sister's  religion  was  a  matter  which,  not  unnat- 
urally, seriously  disquieted  the  Earl  of  Brecon.  True, 
he  knew  nothing  of  it,  except  what  he  gleaned  from 
sermons  preached  against  it  and  from  antagonistic 
articles  published  occasionally  in  the  daily  papers ; 
but  it  shocked  him  by  its  unorthodoxy,  and  it  seemed 
to  him  that  Cecil  was  pursuing  a  terrible,  and  indeed 
dangerous,  course  in  following  a  religion  which  differed 
from  that  of  the  Catholic  Church;  for  he  believed,  in 
spite  of  his  perplexity,  that  the  Catholic  Church  was 
the  only  true  fold.  He  had,  however,  no  conclusive 
proof  to  offer  his  sister  in  support  of  his  views,  and 
thus  it  was  that  the  subject  nearest  to  the  heart  of 
each  was  tacitly  never  referred  to  by  either. 

Much  of  this  passed  through  his  mind  as  he  stood 
beside  the  carriage  door  waiting  the  lifting  of  the 
guard's  green  light.  Now  the  shrill  whistle  sounded 
and  the  great  train  trembled,  as  it  prepared  to  start 
upon  its  northward  journey. 

Lord  Brecon  roused  himself  from  the  anxious  reverie 
into  which  he  had  fallen  and  gravely  answered  his  sis- 
ter's good-bye,  kissing  her  gently  as  he  did  so. 

Then  he  turned  and  leaving  the  station  walked 
quickly  westward,  not  staying  his  steps  until  he  en- 
tered his  house  in  Grosvenor  Square. 


CHAPTER    XXVIII 
A  BARQUE— STORM-TOSSED   UPON   A   STORMY   SEA 

Earth's  crammed  with  heaven, 

And  every  common  bush  afire  with  God; 

But  only  he  who  sees,  takes  off  his  shoes, 

And  the  rest  sit  round  it  and  pluck  blackberries. 

— Mrs.  Browning. 

NINE  days  had  come  and  gone  since  that  upon  which 
Lady  Cecil  Gwynne  had  left  London,  but  she  remained 
alone  at  Castle  Invergach,  for  still  the  battle  raged 
between  sense  and  Soul. 

To-morrow  she  must  return  to  London,  for  her  work 
there  needed  her ;  but  it  was  with  a  heavy  heart  that 
she  rose  from  the  table  upon  this,  her  last  morning 
among  the  peaceful  surroundings  of  the  country.  Not 
that  her  environment  had  brought  her  peace.  Per- 
haps she  had  relied  too  much  upon  the  quiet  of  the 
material  conditions  around  her.  One  cannot  travel 
away  from  oneself,  unless  one  travels  upwards,  and 
so  far  Cecil  Gwynne  had  failed  completely  to  realise 
this. 

Now  she  called  to  the  black  Newfoundland  who  in- 
variably accompanied  her  upon  her  rambles,  and  leav- 
ing the  small  room,  where  she  breakfasted  upon  the 
rare  occasions  which  found  her  alone  at  Invergach, 
she  paused  upon  the  balcony  outside,  resting  her  folded 
arms,  breast  high,  on  the  stone  wall  that  curved  around 

243 


244         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

its  length  and  formed  the  heading  of  a  turreted  cham- 
ber below. 

The  dog  Davie  was  perplexed,  for  his  alert  eye  had 
observed  his  mistress  continually  ever  since  she  first 
rose  from  the  table,  and  he  had  seen  her  place  biscuits 
in  the  pocket  of  her  short  tweed  skirt.  The  day  was 
perfect,  and  everything  pointed  to  a  longer  walk  than 
usual.  He  had  no  objection  to  that.  Indeed,  his 
only  complaint  was  that  they  did  not  start  at  once. 
Eagerly  watching  his  companion  as  she  stood  beside 
him,  the  dog  awaited,  with  what  patience  he  could, 
her  order  to  move  forward.  But  she  did  not  give  it. 

Presently  Cecil  Gwynne  raised  her  head,  and  gazed 
above  the  distant  tree-tops,  seemingly  seeking  to  pene- 
trate the  veil  of  ether  which  curtained  her  vision  with 
delusive  limitations.  So  still  she  stood,  and  for  so 
long,  that  Davie,  growing  restive,  rose  high  upon 
his  strong  hind  legs  and  gently  placed  his  glossy  paws 
upon  the  low  stone  wall  beside  her.  Still  she  did  not 
move,  except  to  lift  her  gaze  a  little  higher.  This 
would  not  do  at  all !  and,  so  deciding,  Davie  ventured 
to  rest  his  great  head  softly  against  her  breast.  Ah! 
at  last  she  noticed  him  and  put  her  arms  about  his 
shoulders,  thus  drawing  him  a  little  nearer  to  her 
heart.  So  far,  so  good,  but  still  she  gave  no  sign  of 
onward  moving. 

"  Ya-wuff ! "  and  having  said  so  much,  Davie  was  a 
little  frightened  and  promptly  closed  his  eyes  and 
seemed  to  be  most  innocent. 

The  girl  stooped  and  pressed  a  long  soft  kiss  upon 
his  head,  but  that  was  all.  But  it  was  not  enough 
for  Davie,  because,  just  then,  he  wanted  more.  The 
sun  was  shining  with  bewitching  smile,  and  the  strong 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         245 

moorland  air  was  calling  to  him !  What  sprite  of 
dreamy  fortune  had  chained  his  mistress  to  this  strange 
f orgetfulness  ?  He  tried  a  rush  down  the  rough  stone 
stairs  and  up  again ;  she  did  not  even  look  at  him ! 
Now  it  became  necessary  to  consider  deeply  what  had 
best  be  done.  Thus  Davie  sat  upon  his  haunches  look- 
ing very  wise  but  not  for  long;  with  three  big  bounds 
he  reached  and  passed  the  silent  girl — more  clumsily 
than  he  need  have  done — but  wake  the  lazy  lady  up 
he  must !  Tearing  into  the  house  he  almost  instantly 
returned ;  with  tail  held  high  and  shoulders  proudly 
poised,  he  clattered  through  the  hall,  and  dropped  a 
large  thorn  stick,  with  deliberate  noisiness,  upon  the 
paved  terrace  below.  Ah !  she  moved  at  last  and,  turn- 
ing, patted  the  expectant  animal  upon  the  head. 

But  she  did  not  speak  to  him,  not  at  any  rate  as 
Davie  counted  speech.  Something  she  said  indeed,  but 
in  sorrowful  accents,  unrestful  and  full  of  pain,  direct- 
ing her  gaze  the  while,  not  at  him,  but  away,  up  and 
on  over  those  distant  tree-tops. 

"  *  The  flesh,'  "  she  whispered,  "  « lusteth  against  the 
Spirit,  and  the  Spirit  against  the  flesh:  and  these  are 
contrary  the  one  to  the  other:  so  that  ye  cannot  do 
the  things  that  ye  would.' '  Then,  with  visible  effort, 
she  roused  herself  and  followed  the  dog,  who,  losing 
no  time,  now  led  her  quickly  down  the  steps  and  on 
towards  the  moor;  and  Davie's  heart  beat  fast  with 
the  triumph  of  his  canine  cunning.  His  tail  curled 
proiidly  and  waved  with  stately  grace,  while  his  body 
swayed  comfortably  as  he  walked  beside  her,  each  glossy 
side  rolling,  now  in,  now  out  in  turn,  as  is  the  manner 
with  his  tribe. 

Then  came  a  walk,  never  to  be  forgotten  by  either. 


246          THE    SEAMLESS    ROBE 

For  Davie  it  held  delights  unspeakable;  first  came  a 
swim  in  the  lake,  and  while  still  some  way  from  the 
bank,  a  deep  dive,  rewarded  by  a  rich  find — a  large 
stone  which  he  brought  proudly  to  his  lady's  feet. 
Then  a  glorious  shake  of  glistening  fur  which  waved 
the  better  for  its  wetting.  In  time  they  reached  the 
moor,  and  Davie's  cup  of  joy  was  full!  For  now 
came  mysterious  hunts  among  the  heather  roots  and 
lichen-covered  rocks,  varied  by  sharp,  short  gallops, 
there  and  back  again.  An  expedition  to  the  top  of 
a  wall,  and  a  visit  of  inspection  to  the  other  side — an 
excursion  fraught  with  some  peril,  for  the  wall  was 
insecure,  all  weakened  with  old  age,  and  very  rough 
upon  the  top.  And  now,  the  crowning  joy  of  all,  an 
exciting  hunt  among  the  untold  wonders  of  a  disused 
quarry. 

Davie  was  too  happy  to  observe  that  his  mistress 
never  spoke  to  him  as  she  walked  steadily  forward 
with  a  more  purposeful  step  than  heretofore;  nor  did 
he  knew  that  she  had  a  definite  goal  in  view,  and  a 
walk  of  some  miles  before  her  in  order  to  reach  it. 

Long  ago  they  had  left  all  human  habitation  be- 
hind. For  some  time  the  ground  had  been  steadily 
rising  and  now  they  walked,  upon  the  heather-clad 
hills.  The  early  promise  of  the  day  was  not  fulfilled. 
Dark  clouds  had  gathered  in  the  north  and  lay  thick 
across  the  sky,  while  all  the  air  was  heavy  with  the 
threatening  of  a  storm.  Dull  monochrome  replaced 
the  brightness  of  the  morning's  colour,  for  greys  had 
chased  the  blues  away  and  thrown  deep  shadows  upon 
all  the  country  side. 

Davie  was  considering  whether  it  was  not  time  to 
rest  and  lunch,  when  his  mistress  called  a  halt,  for 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         247 

they  had  reached  the  plateau  towards  which  she  had 
been  directing  her  steps  for  more  than  an  hour.  Now 
she  threw  him  the  biscuits  and  watched  him  as  he 
caught  them  one  by  one.  So  she  continued  to  watch 
him,  but  with  preoccupation  in  her  gaze,  as  he  care- 
fully selected  the  exact  spot  which  he  considered  most 
suitable  for  his  midday  nap.  Many  times  he  needed 
to  turn  round  and  about,  and  much  pawing  of  the 
ground  was  necessary,  before  his  critical  doggie  mind 
was  quite  at  ease;  but  at  last  he  was  fairly  settled 
and  curled  himself  contentedly  down  among  the  heather 
roots.  He  was  a  beautiful  mass  of  wavy  blackness, 
for  his  loose  curls  shone  with  satiny  sheen  wherever 
the  fitful  sunlight  kissed  them.  With  his  noble  head 
laid  low  upon  his  paws,  he  slept,  as  a  good  dog  does, 
with  one  eye  always  open. 

Presently  Cecil  turned,  and  dropping  her  plaid  upon 
a  great  boulder  she  lay  full  length  upon  its  flat  sur- 
face, while  once  again  her  eyes  asked  questions  of 
the  sky,  and  still  their  depths  were  troubled  by  the 
thoughts  that  would  not  let  her  rest. 

For  long  she  remained  almost  motionless ;  then  sud- 
denly, she  turned  and  hid  her  face  upon  her  folded 
arms ;  and  now  her  form  quivered  through  and  through, 
as  the  hot  tears  chased  each  other  from  her  eyes  and 
swept  their  way  across  her  face.  It  was  the  sudden 
breaking  of  the  storm  that  had  pent  her  thought  too 
long  within  a  narrow  earth-bound  cell.  But  as  a  thun- 
der shower  dispels  the  darkness  that  its  own  clouds 
have  created,  so  now  her  storm-tossed  thought  was 
cleared,  and  presently  she  ceased  her  piteous  moan 
and  rested  quietly. 

Davie  watched  her  all  the  time,  but  did  not  speak 


248         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

to  her,  though  once  he  rose,  and  gently  pressed  his 
head  against  her  face.  But  he  knew  what  trouble 
was  himself,  and  also  knew  that  he  best  could  bear  the 
worst  alone.  Should  she  want  him,  he  was  there,  ready 
waiting  upon  her  beck  and  call! 

But  the  girl  did  not  need  her  faithful  friend,  dear 
though  he  was  at  all  times  to  her.  She  was  now  in 
a  world  above  the  comprehension  of  even  Davie's  lov- 
ing heart. 

Later  she  rose  and  deftly  wound  her  plaid  around 
her  shoulders ;  and  now  scarcely  a  sign  remained  upon 
her  face  of  the  great  battle  which  she  had  so  nearly 
lost.  As  she  stood  upon  the  granite  rock,  her  feet 
firmly  planted  upon  its  smooth  surface,  the  grey  mantle 
which  a  distant  storm  had  spread  half  across  the  sky 
was  suddenly  disturbed,  and  the  sun  broke  up  the 
even  shadows  which  the  dark  cloud  had  cast  upon  the 
moor. 

Cecil  Gwynne  now  stood  outlined  by  light,  for  the 
sun  fell  full  and  strong  behind  her  and  filled  the  air 
around  with  penetrating  brightness,  while  a  fresh  breeze 
caught  her  plaid  and  wrapped  it  closer  to  her  form. 
Standing  thus  upright  upon  the  rock,  she  threw  her 
hands  behind  her  and  lightly  rested  the  one  upon  the 
other,  as  she  lifted  her  face  towards  the  heavens  above. 
Upon  every  side  there  stretched  the  silent  moor,  the 
brown  at  her  feet  undulating  into  the  purple  distance, 
which  melted  into  closest  union  with  the  sky.  And  the 
blue  form  on  high  peeped  into  her  eyes,  and  liking  well 
what  it  found  there,  it  rested  long  in  their  purity 
and  peace,  thus  shadowing  forth  the  mighty  truth 
that,  while  yet  on  earth,  man  may  reflect  the  glory  of 
heaven. 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         249 

Softly  her  voice  now  fell  upon  the  sunlit  air,  impelled 
by  the  holy  peace  which  governed  her. 

In  all  the  world  there  is  but  one  God.  God,  Spirit, 
boundless,  limitless  Substance — Mind.  God,  Life — 
the  Alpha  and  Omega,  the  First  and  the  Last,  without 
beginning  of  years  or  end  of  days.  God,  Love — 
"  KING  OF  KINGS,  AND  LORD  OF  LORDS,"  even  the  Great 
"  I  AM." 

Thus  the  storm  was  stilled,  and  the  battle  raged 
no  more ;  and  thus  it  will  ever  be  when  sense  shall  yield 
to  Soul,  and  man,  new-born,  affirms  that  "  Good  is 
All-in-All." 


CHAPTER   XXIX 

EGYPT 

In  hope  to  merit  heaven  by  making  earth  a  hell. 

— Byron. 

MR.  SAUL  sat  in  his  study,  his  mind  in  a  whirl,  and 
an  open  letter  in  his  hand.  Could  he  do  it?  Yes! 
Must  he  do  it?  Why  not  someone  else?  But  as  he 
asked  this  last  question  his  brow  flushed  with  con- 
scious pride.  Why  not  someone  else?  Because  the 
matter  was  considered  to  be  one  of  great  importance, 
and  he  was  known  to  be  the  most  eloquent  preacher 
in  England.  Yet  for  once  he  wished  that  this  were 
not  so.  Dearly  as  he  loved  his  gift,  sacred  as  he 
deemed  it  to  be,  for  once  he  wished  that  it  were  not 
his ;  for  he  still  loved  Cecil  Gwynne,  and  he  knew  that 
he  would  always  love  her.  Certainly,  he  could  refuse 
to  preach  upon  this  subject,  but  apart  from  the  re- 
luctance to  give  Cecil  pain,  he  had  no  wish  to  refuse. 
He  saw  that  the  time  had  come  when  Christian  Science 
could  not  longer  be  ignored :  it  must  be  grappled  with, 
and  by  a  master  hand.  It  must  be  exposed,  and  at 
once,  before  it  ensnared  important  members  of  the 
Church  of  England — men  and  women  whose  families 
had  been  for  generations  staunch  upholders  of  the 
established  Church  of  the  land.  A  strong  voice  must 
be  raised  in  protest,  that  he  saw  clearly  enough;  but 

9SO 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         251 

he  would  rather  that  Cecil  should  not  know  that  voice 
for  his,  for  it  would  add  to  her  pain  that  he  should  pub- 
licly denounce  that  which  she  believed  herself  to  love.  Of 
course,  she  was  deluded  and  must  in  time  see  her  mis- 
take. Of  course,  she  did  not  really  love  Christian 
Science,  but  was  merely  infatuated  by  it  for  the  time 
being.  Nevertheless  it  appeared  that  many  others, 
equally  well-educated,  equally  intelligent,  were  likewise 
deluded;  and  it  is  the  educated  classes  which  yet  rule 
England.  This  Mr.  Saul  realised.  This  dangerous 
heresy  must  therefore  be  immediately  exposed.  He 
would  not  willingly  hurt  one  hair  of  Cecil's  head;  it 
was  hateful  to  him  to  cause  her  one  moment's  pain,  but 
he  must  do  his  duty,  and  he  was  made  of  the  stuff  to 
do  it  the  more  readily,  the  more  zealously,  in  spite 
of  the  personal  suffering  which  it  entailed. 

That  afternoon  he  received  a  letter  from  Cecil 
Gwynne  written  from  Invergach.  He  was  at  last  con- 
vinced, for  in  it  she  told  him  decidedly  that  she  could 
not  marry  him,  while  their  views  on  the  vital  matter  of 
religion  differed  so  essentially,  and  in  spite  of  himself 
he  felt  obliged  to  accept  her  word  as  final.  He  bitterly 
declared  that  Christian  Science  had  robbed  him  of  all 
that  he  considered  worth  the  having.  It  did  not  occur 
to  him  that,  if  his  religion  were  indeed  all  that  a  man's 
religion  should  be  to  him,  the  real  substance  of  life 
must  still  be  his.  He  was  suffering  too  keenly  to 
reason  logically,  and  as  he  brooded  upon  what  was,  in 
reality,  his  own  misconception  of  the  matter,  his  trouble 
assumed  undue  proportions  in  his  eyes,  and  life  be- 
came for  him  a  distorted  thing,  for  he  saw  nothing 
clearly. 

Now,  a  time  of  tempestuous  energy  set  in  for  Robert 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

Saul,  and  he  filled  his  days  and  nights  with  work.  But 
through  all  his  busiest  hours,  there  ran  a  strong  cur- 
rent of  passionate  pain,  and  daily  his  rancour  against 
this  religion,  of  which  in  reality  he  knew  scarcely  any- 
thing more  than  the  name,  grew  into  a  resentment  which 
filled  his  heart  with  hatred  and,  worse  still,  with 
revenge. 

He  knew  his  power  and  knew  that  many  would 
follow  without  question  wherever  he  should  lead;  so 
he  decided  to  preach  against  Christian  Science,  and 
all  the  time  he  placed  his  motive  for  this  mistaken 
crusade  upon  a  pedestal  which  he  himself  had  built. 
In  reality,  his  life  at  this  period  was  not  inspired  by 
any  lofty  aim,  though  self-deceived  he  did  not  realise 
how  entirely  it  became  coloured  by  his  desire  to  hurt 
the  thing  which  had  caused  him  so  much  pain — to  hit 
back  at  Christian  Science !  And  all  the  time  the  only 
life  his  pain  possessed  was  a  false  sense  of  life,  with 
which  he  himself  endowed  it.  The  animal  instinct, 
given  rein,  soon  claimed  him  for  its  own,  and  yet  Robert 
Saul  had  no  idea  that  he  was  simply  a  puppet  in  the 
hands  of  elementary  evil — a  power  at  once  secret,  subtle 
and  elaborate ;  whose  arena  is  the  world,  whose  tools 
are  the  hearts  of  men,  women  and  little  children; — 
whose  power  is  the  power  of  darkness,  even  "  darkness 
which  may  be  felt  " ;  a  power  which  fears  but  one 
force,  whose  name  it  knows,  but  whose  nature  it  mis- 
takes, deeming  it  close  kindred  to  its  own.  Truly, 
Pharaoh  still  reigns  in  Egypt,  and  Rachel  weeps  once 
again  for  her  little  children ! 

Still  the  world  sleeps  on !  Religious,  political,  social 
England  sleeps  on,  while  luxury  and  lethargy  weave 
bright  fancies  about  her  head.  Thus  she  dreams  of 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         253 

peace,  in  the  midst  of  pain;  she  prates  of  freedom, 
while  entwined  in  snarls ;  she  carols  of  life,  while  speed- 
ing towards  her  death.  Does  no  whisper  reach  the 
throne  of  England's  King?  Does  no  doubt  steal  slum- 
ber from  him  whose  pomp  is  next  to  that  of  king? 
Does  no  question  stir  the  heart  of  those  who  yet  glean 
the  freeholds  that  their  fathers  have  gleaned  from 
generation  to  generation?  Does  no  fear  blanch  the 
cheek  of  woman  with  babe  upon  her  breast?  Does  no 
tremor  stir  the  heart  of  "  them  that  are  with  child  "  ? 

Shall  history  indeed  repeat  itself,  but  in  more  awful 
guise?  or  will  England  awake,  while  yet  there  is  time, 
and  understand  that  "  the  mystery  of  iniquity  doth 
already  work  "  and  that  tyranny,  of  a  kind  and  to  a 
degree  before  unknown,  threatens  to  rule  by  every  fire- 
side? So  cautiously  does  the  leaven  work,  so  carefully 
does  it  don  the  robe  of  peace ;  so  wisely  does  it  bear  an 
old  and  honoured  name,  that  men  and  women  smile, 
whilst  they  nurse  upon  the  breast  the  hooded  asp,  whose 
poisoned  fangs  lull  them  ever  to  a  deeper  sleep,  a  sleep, 
the  ultimate  of  which  is — death! 


CHAPTER    XXX 

MESMERIZED 

Surely  the  wrath  of  man  shall  praise  thee;  the  remainder 
of  wrath  shalt  thou  restrain. 

— Psalms. 

A  FEW  weeks  later  Mr.  Saul  informed  his  congrega- 
tion that  he  intended  to  preach  two  sermons  upon  the 
subject  of  Christian  Science,  and  that  he  wished  them 
to  make  his  intention  known  to  their  friends,  as  the 
first  would  be  delivered  on  the  following  Sunday. 
Many,  the  majority  perhaps,  had  heard  of  this  new 
theme;  some  few  felt  that,  if  so  strange  a  thing  could 
yet  be  true,  then  God's  love  might  become  a  tangible 
reality — a  factor  in  their  lives.  But  by  far  the  greater 
number  laughed  the  thing  to  scorn.  Nevertheless 
many  engagements  were  broken,  and  others  postponed, 
in  order  that  the  day  might  be  kept  free;  and  during 
the  week  the  subject  assumed  paramount  importance  at 
social  gatherings  in  Mr.  Saul's  parish.  It  was  odd 
how  keen  the  interest  in  it  became.  Perhaps  some  hint 
of  tfee  Vicar's  love  story  was  in  the  air;  but  much  more 
it  was,  that  sick  people  hungered  to  be  well,  though, 
with  the  suicidal  instinct  of  the  carnal  mind,  they 
pushed  from  them  the  only  thing  that  stood  between 
them  and  the  grave.  Unknowing  of  what  they  did, 
they  cried  for  freedom,  while  electing  to  be  slaves. 
So  the  whole  parish  went  to  hear  what  the  Vicar  had 
•54 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         255 

to  say  of  Christian  Science;  and  upon  that  Sunday 
morning  the  church,  always  full,  was  filled  to  overflow- 
ing, while  many  could  find  no  accommodation  and  so 
returned  home  disappointed,  for  there  was  not  even 
standing  room. 

Mr.  Saul's  personal  opinion  carried  so  much  weight 
that  several  who  thought  that  they  went  with  open 
minds,  had  already  unconsciously  decided  to  be  guided 
by  what  their  Vicar  should  say. 

And  what  did  the  Vicar  say? 

His  sermon  had  been  carefully  thought  out  night 
after  night;  no  other  sermon  had  ever  taken  him  so 
long  to  write.  Indeed  it  was  his  usual  custom  to  preach 
extempore,  but  it  had  seemed  to  be  out  of  the  question 
to  do  so  upon  this  occasion — his  ideas  appeared  to 
stagnate  and  grow  cold.  But  his  intention  to  preach 
upon  the  subject  of  Christian  Science  had  been  adver- 
tised upon  the  housetops  and  must 'be  executed  up  to 
time.  It  could  not,  for  a  moment,  occur  to  such  a  man 
to  abandon  it. 

Now  the  time  had  come  for  him  to  carry  it  out,  and 
he  mounted  the  pulpit  steps  with  trepidation  in  his 
heart,  a  sensation  entirely  new  to  him.  It  was  the 
crowded  congregation !  but  he  had  preached  before  a 
King.  It  was  that  he  deemed  his  duty  somewhat  hard, 
for  he  still  loved  Cecil  Gwynne!  but  he  had  accepted 
it  in  obedience  to  his  own  desire.  It  was  that  the  re- 
sponsibility was  one  of  most  unusual  weight!  but  he 
was  not  wont  to  weigh  the  burden  upon  his  shoulders. 
Blind  and  headstrong  he  did  not  realise  that  he  had 
assumed  this  task  in  part  at  the  prompting  of  a  devil, 
named  Revenge!  Now  masquerading  in  the  guise  of 
duty,  it  urged  him  to  give  back  pain  for  pain.  Robert 


256         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

Saul  was  far  above  that  ignoble  nature  which  will  con- 
sciously strike  one  weaker  than  itself.  He  told  himself 
that  because  Cecil  Gwynne  was  so  intimately  connected 
with  the  matter,  he  suffered  the  more.  It  was  not  Cecil 
whom,  even  unconsciously,  he  wished  to  punish.  He 
would  willingly,  nay  preferably,  have  so  arranged  it, 
had  such  a  thing  been  possible,  that  she  should  never 
know  of  the  step  which  he  felt  called  upon  to  take.  It 
was  Christian  Science  that  had  caused  the  great  dis- 
quiet of  his  life,  and  it  was  Christian  Science  that  he 
intended  to  destroy,  before  it  did  any  more  harm — 
before  it  deluded  any  more  women  such  as  the  one 
whom  he  loved,  or  spoilt  the  lives  of  other  men,  as  it 
had  spoilt  his  own. 

With  a  mind  thus  filled  with  unrest,  it  was  not  to 
be  expected  that  he  should  retain  his  usual  self-pos- 
session upon  this  eventful  Sunday,  and  Mr.  Saul  be- 
came conscious,  before  he  had  given  out  his  text,  that 
he  must  look  to  it  or  he  would  lose  his  laurels.  Usually, 
his  delivery  was  the  perfection  of  refined  utterance, 
calm  and  sweet  in  tone;  to-day,  an  odd  excitement 
caught  and  governed  him,  and  once  he  almost  ranted 
in  what  he  deemed  to  be  his  righteous  wrath. 

Malcolm  sat  below  the  pulpit  steps  and  trembled; 
why,  he  could  not  have  told;  and  when  Mr.  Saul  ob- 
served the  child's  pale  face,  anger  rose  anew  within 
him,  because  Cecil  was  not  there  to  tend  the  little  fel- 
low as  a  mother  might  have  done. 

At  first,  the  congregation  listened  as  one  man,  but 
as  their  Vicar's  sermon  passed  from  mere  statement  on 
to  what  he  intended  as  clever  argument,  Mr.  Saul, 
whose  sense  to-day  was  hypersensitive,  became  aware 
that  surprise,  even  disappointment,  showed  plainly 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         257 

upon  the  face  of  more  than  one  valued  member  of  his 
flock.  Especially  he  noted  one  sitting  there,  his  figure 
bent  with  age  and  his  hair  all  silvered  by  his  years  of 
toil,  and  he  knew  him  for  a  man  whose  face  had  grown 
most  beautiful  in  the  service  of  his  Lord.  His  dress 
bespoke  episcopalian  rank,  and  the  quiet  dignity  of  his 
presence  was  silent  witness  to  the  consecration  of  his 
life.  As  Mr.  Saul  continued  to  preach,  the  sweet  face 
grew  clouded  as  with  pain,  and  sorrow  bowed  the  old 
man's  head. 

Doggedly  determined  to  go  through  with  that  which 
he  had  come  to  do,  Robert  Saul  turned  each  page  of 
his  carefully  written  discourse  and  continued  to  de- 
liver it  with  unusual  emphasis.  But  as  he  left  the 
pulpit,  he  understood  perfectly  that  he  had  been  de- 
feated, and  again  by  the  very  thing  that  he  had  come 
to  kill;  and  he  was  filled  with  bitterness.  His  argu- 
ments, if  such  they  could  be  called,  he  suddenly  saw 
to  have  been  weak  and  most  illogical.  But  it  only 
angered  him  the  more  and  filled  his  heart  with  deeper 
rage  against  the  power  that  stood  invulnerable  to  all 
attack. 

Now,  the  service  was  over  and  the  Vicar  stood  alone 
in  the  vestry.  Sick  at  heart  and  strangely  tired,  he 
laid  his  surplice  aside,  pausing,  as  he  did  so,  to  register 
a  mental  vow  that  his  second  sermon  upon  this  subject 
should  outshine  the  first,  as  the  sunlit  heavens  outshine 
the  starlit  sky.  He  had  been  feeling  ill  for  some  time ; 
no  doubt  that  accounted  for  to-day's  failure  and  for 
this  unusual  lassitude.  He  would  preach  that  other 
sermon,  but  first  he  would  do  some  climbing  in  the  Alps 
and  return  to  town  his  usual  self,  and  better.  He  and 
Malcolm  would  spend  a  quiet  month  in  Switzerland. 


258         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

The  child  seemed  ill,  and  yet  the  doctors  could  find 
nothing  wrong;  the  bracing  air  would  doubtless  put 
him  right  and  wake  him  into  merry  boyhood  once 
again. 

As  Mr.  Saul  decided  this,  he  paused  by  the  open 
window,  and  the  voice  of  a  passer-by  reached  him.  He 
recognised  it  as  that  of  a  favourite  parishioner. 

"  I  am  sorry  that  you  should  have  heard  our  Vicar 
for  the  first  time  to-day;  usually,  he  is  clear  and  con- 
clusive, but  to-day " 

"  To-day,"  an  unfamiliar  voice  interrupted,  "  he 
seemed  to  have  no  case  at  all ;  I  must  search  this  matter 
to  the  core,  for  it  seems  to  me  to  have  more  in  it  than 
I  thought." 

So  that  was  all  that  he  had  done!  Sent  people  to 
investigate  the  thing  he  hated  most  in  all  the  world ! 

Deeply  depressed  he  turned  to  shut  the  vestry  door 
and,  as  he  did  so,  faced  an  old  man  standing  upon  the 
steps,  a  man  from  whom  he  had  received  much  and  to 
whom  he  must  therefore  extend  a  cordial  welcome, 
though  he  longed  to  be  alone ;  longed  for  the  isolation 
of  his  study,  in  which  to  find  again  the  imperturbable 
man  of  the  moment,  the  master  of  every  circumstance, 
who,  he  had  believed  until  this  morning,  bore  the  name 
of  Robert  Saul ! 

"  Robert," — the  old  man  paused — "  to  your  thirty 
years  I  can  add  another  forty  in  which  I  have  learnt  to 
love  mankind,  but  not  enough!  It  is  because  I  have 
watched  your  strenuous  life,  and  watching,  have  learnt 
to  love  you,  that  I  speak  now  and  tell  you  that  you 
have  to-day  made  the  mistake  of  your  life ! " 

Robert  Saul  was  silent.  Many  words  lay  ready  be- 
hind his  set  lips,  and  he  had  much  ado  to  leave  them  all 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         259 

unspoken,  but  the  very  gentleness  of  the  man  before 
him  forebade  all  interruption. 

"  Abuse,  Saul,  is  no  argument,"  the  elder  man  con- 
tinued, "  I  know  something  of  these  people,  and  this 
is  a  little  of  what  I  know.  One  day  I  held  a  child  upon 
my  arm — a  babe — and  I  knew,  or  thought  I  knew,  that 
even  while  I  marked  the  cross  upon  his  brow,  that  babe 
would  die.  The  child's  father  stood  before  me,  and  I 
knew,  or  thought  I  knew,  that  death  claimed  him  as 
well.  But  a  stronger  than  death  withdrew  both  child 
and  man  from  the  very  jaws  of  death  and,  in  the  with- 
drawing, would  seem  to  have  so  uplifted  them,  that  the 
mind  of  each  has  risen  higher  year  by  year.  That 
power  which  triumphed  over  death  was  Christian  Sci- 
ence. I  have  watched  the  lives  of  many  who  follow  its 
teaching,  and  I  see  that  they  are  doing  that  which  we 
have  left  undone.  I  see  that  their  eyes  are  open,  where 
ours  are  still  shut.  While  you  preached  to-day,  these 
words  of  the  Master  rang  in  my  ears ;  '  And  these 
signs  shall  follow  them  that  believe;  In  my  name  shall 
they  cast  out  devils ;  they  shall  speak  with  new  tongues ; 
they  shall  take  up  serpents ;  and  if  they  drink  any 
deadly  thing,  it  shall  not  hurt  them ;  they  shall  lay 
hands  on  the  sick,  and  they  shall  recover.'  Why  has 
the  Church  throughout  the  ages,  dissected  the  Lord's 
command?  Why  have  we  not  followed  the  Christ  more 
wholly?  Three  years  he  ministered  upon  this  earth, 
saving  the  sinner,  healing  the  sick,  and  raising  the 
dead.  Why  do  not  we  do  likewise?  Why  do  not  we 
lay  hands  upon  the  sick?  Would  they  recover  were  we 
to  do  so?  It  seems  to  me,"  and  now  the  gentle  voice 
was  sad  and  very  low,  "  that  I  must,  after  fifty  years 
and  more,  ask  myself,  do  I  really  believe?  If  so,  why 


260         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

do  I  not  '  heal  the  sick  J  and  *  raise  the  dead  '  ?  In 
fact  why  do  not  the  promised  '  signs  '  follow  us?  Those 
promised  signs  do  follow  these  people;  the  time  to 
question  that  has  passed.  Can  it  be  that  their  trust  in 
God  exceeds  our  own?  Can  it  be  that  I,  and  others  in 
the  Church,  have  carried  the  wrong  cross  all  along? 
Can  it  be  that  we  are  fighting  only  half  a  fight?  I  am 
actually  tempted," — and  for  a  moment  a  youthful  fire 
lit  up  the  old  man's  eye — "  I  am  actually  tempted," 
he  repeated,  as  he  turned  and  faced  the  man  who  stood 
before  him  in  the  obvious  prime  of  life,  "  to  wish  that  I 
were  you;  to  wish  that  I  were  young  and  strong  and 
well  equipped,  as  you  are;  then  I  would  start  afresh 
and  fight  a  new  crusade.  I  would  war,  not  only  against 
sin,  but  against  disease  as  well.  Now,  it  is  too  late! 
Too  late  for  me,  but  not  too  late  for  you !  for  you  have 
still  the  better  part  of  your  life  before  you !  Pray  God 
that  you  may  help,  not  hinder,  this  gracious  work. 
Robert,"  and  now  the  sweet  voice  pleaded,  and  the 
gentle  eyes  grew  more  steadfast  in  their  hope,  "  at 
any  rate  let  us  ask  a  blessing  upon  all  who,  no  matter 
what  their  creed,  try  to  serve  the  Christ.  And  let  us 
note  their  gentle  tolerance.  They  do  not  abuse  the 
Church ;  on  the  contrary,  they  love  all  there  is  of  good, 
wherever  it  be  found;  neither  do  theyjf  attempt  to 
proselytise ;  but  wait  until  the  hungry,  unfed  by  us,  go 
to  them  for  food." 

The  Vicar  grew  hot  with  wrath,  but  he  was  dumb. 
H'e  looked  at  the  pure  face  before  him;  he  knew  that 
he  talked  with  a  man  who  had  recently  drunk  the  cup 
of  human  sorrow  to  the  dregs,  and  he  could  not  say 
the  words  he  would;  for  love  and  meekness  were  in 
every  word  that  the  old  man  uttered,  and,  as  Robert 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         261 

Saul  looked  again,  he  saw  the  sad  lines  deepen  round 
the  sensitive  mouth ;  he  saw  the  soft  shade  of  unshed 
tears  dim  the  eyes  that  nevertheless  held  an  holy  light 
within  their  depths.  Ashamed,  he  put  forth  his  hand 
in  silence  and  took  the  other's  thin  fingers  with  his 
strong  man's  clasp.  And  as  he  towered  above  the  stoop- 
ing figure  and  thought  upon  the  exceeding  purity  of 
the  life  which  this  man  had  lived,  he  held  back  the 
words  of  protest  which  rose  to  his  lips  and  bade  his 
friend  of  half  a  lifetime  a  courteous  farewell. 

A  venerable  man  lay  dying.  Those  who  loved  him 
best  stood  around  his  bed.  Suddenly  he  rose  upon  his 
pillows,  and  stretching  forth  both  hands  he  threw  a 
supplicating  cry  upon  the  air ;  "  Work,  my  God !  give 
me  more  work  to  do  for  Thee ! " 

None  there  might  hear  the  answer  from  on  high,  but 
every  head  bowed  low,  as  in  the  presence  of  some 
holy  thing. 

Then  one  stooped  and  took  the  feeble  form  upon  his 
arm,  while  he  rested  the  pure,  wrapt  face  against  his 
heart.  Bending  low  he  caught  the  message,  which 
trembled  through  the  dying  lips  and  did  its  work  for 
God,  in  the  manner,  and  at  the  time,  of  God's  appoint- 
ing. Hearing  the  whispered  words  the  young  man's 
strong  face  quivered,  and  his  very  lips  grew  pale.  Re- 
bellious, he  raised  his  head  and  threw  it  high :  and  now, 
no  longer  was  there  any  need  to  strain  the  ear,  for  the 
sick  man's  voice  rose  sweet  and  clear;  "'Preach,  say- 
ing, The  Kingdom  of  heaven  is  at  hand.  Heal  the 
sick,  cleanse  the  lepers,  raise  the  dead,  cast  out  devils : 
freely  ye  have  received,  freely  give.' ' 

Then  a  great  calm  fell  upon  the  beautiful  face,  and 


262         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

a  light  of  holy  joy  shone  from  the  quiet  eyes,  ere  the 
soft  shadow  of  a  gentle  sleep  o'ershadowed  them.  A 
woman's  sob  smote  upon  the  silent  air,  as  a  man's 
voice,  strange  to  Robert  Saul,  and  yet  his  own,  though 
surely  impelled  by  a  power  not  his  own,  slowly  pro- 
nounced the  solemn  benediction; 

"  Blessed  are  the  dead  that  die  in  the  Lord." 


CHAPTER   XXXI 

CLOUDS   OF    SENSE 

He  is  a  fool  who  thinks  by  force  or  skill 
To  turn  the  current  of  a  woman's  will. 

— Tuke. 

MR.  SAUL  and  his  little  nephew  were  back  in  London. 
Their  sojourn  in  Switzerland  had  been  a  conspicuous 
failure.  The  high  altitude  had  not  suited  Malcolm, 
and  their  holiday  had  been  curtailed,  for  it  now  ap- 
peared that  the  child's  heart  was  seriously  affected. 
Mr.  Saul  himself  had  not  been  well  of  late.  While 
in  Switzerland  he  had,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life, 
tired  easily  when  walking.  Real  climbing,  at  which 
he  was  a  well-known  expert,  had  this  time  proved  to 
be  out  of  the  question.  But  at  first  he  would  not 
accept  defeat,  for  it  angered  the  usually  strong  man  to 
fail,  and  it  was  not  until  repeated  attempts  to  scale 
stiff  mountain  tracks  invariably  resulted  in  exhaustion 
the  next  day  that  he  would  admit  himself  beaten  for 
a  time;  next  year  he  would  return  and  would  then 
certainly  succeed  in  mastering  the  passes  which  now 
mastered  him.  Immediately  after  his  arrival  in  Lon- 
don he  took  Malcolm  to  the  great  child-specialist. 

Dr.  Arthur  was  comforting ;  he  spoke  soothingly  and 
was  emphatic  in  his  declaration  that  no  organic  disease 
could  have  yet  obtained  any  hold  upon  the  boy's  system. 


264         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

Mr.  Saul  was  not  satisfied,  however,  for  his  thought 
suddenly  flew  back  nearly  thirty  years,  and  with  a 
shock  he  remembered  that  his  own  mother — Malcolm's 
grandmother — had  died  suddenly.  He  himself  could 
not  have  been  more  than  a  toddling  child  at  the  time, 
but  he  had  then  received  a  mental  impression  which 
had  never  been  erased ;  darkened  rooms,  low  voices, 
weeping  servants  and  a  long  procession  of  carriages ! 
He  now  remembered  how,  with  boyish  glee,  he  had 
shouted  when  he  saw  the  black  plumes  as  they  waved 
above  the  hearse  and  clapped  his  hands  as  the  horses 
moved  forward.  His  nurse  had  scolded  him,  telling  him 
that  his  mother  was  dead  and  that  he  ought  to  be 
breaking  his  heart  about  it.  Later  his  father  had 
taken  him  to  the  churchyard  and,  showing  him  a  new 
grave,  had  there  told  him  that  his  mother  had  died 
quite  suddenly  "  of  heart  failure."  This  of  course  con- 
veyed very  little  to  a  child  of  four  years  old,  but  the 
dreary  conviction  was  now  borne  in  upon  him  that 
plainly  "  weak  heart  "  was  hereditary  in  his  family, 
and  that  Malcolm  bore  the  taint  in  his  young  system. 
With  horrible  reiteration  a  certain  portion  of  the 
second  commandment  rang  in  his  ears — "  Visiting  the 
iniquity  of  the  fathers  upon  the  children  unto  the  third 
and  fourth  generation."  What  matter  whether  materia 
medica  gave  to  the  burden  the  name  of  "  heredity  " 
or  "  predisposition  "  ?  What  matter  whether  it  were 
nerves,  hysteria  or  organic  disease,  which  killed  men, 
women  and  children?  Of  what  importance  could  the 
medical  designation  of  the  illness  be  compared  to  the 
fact  of  an  untimely  death?  And  how  many  of  those 
700,000  deaths  and  over,  which  he  knew  occurred  yearly 
in  the  United  Kingdom,  were  untimely,  even  in  the 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         265 

eyes  of  a  callous  world?  The  fate  which  pursued  man 
born  of  delicate  parentage  was  relentless,  hopeless. 
What  hope  then  was  there  for  little  Malcolm — a  child 
whose  mother  and  grandmother,  aye,  and  others  before 
that  for  aught  he  knew,  had  died  from  the  same 
disease? 

What  hope?  Does  the  priest  of  God  know  so  little 
of  the  word  of  God?  What  hope?  Why  this — the 
way  of  escape,  the  way  to  Life  lies  wide  open  to  the 
world.  Why  does  the  man  of  God  dissect  the  word  of 
God?  Why  does  the  world  turn  its  back  upon  the  only 
door  through  which  man  can  pass  up  to  Life  ?  "  Visit- 
ing the  iniquity  of  the  fathers  upon  the  children  unto 
the  third  and  fourth  generation  of  them  that  hate  me; 
and  showing  mercy  unto  thousands  of  them  that  love 
me,  and  keep  my  commandments!  "  What  hope?  Why 
this — he  who  fulfilled  the  law,  he  who  epitomised  the 
ten  commandments  in  that  one  sublime  word — love,— 
Jie,  the  practical  Way-shower,  further  demonstrated 
that  Love  is  Life,  and  that  obedience  to  the  law  of  Love 
results  in  everlasting  life. 

But  habit  and  common  custom  are  stronger  than  a 
man  in  deep  distress.  They  proved  strong  enough  at 
any  rate  to  obliterate  from  Robert  Saul's  conscious 
thought  the  glorious  promise  with  which  Love  and 
Justice  had  crowned  the  law  of  Life  upon  the  Mount 
of  Sinai.  So  he  took  Malcolm  to  another  great  spe- 
cialist, a  "  heart "  man  this  time,  never  pausing  to 
consider  that  a  fountain  can  rise  no  higher  than  its 
source,  and  that  the  cleverest  brain  on  earth  can  rise 
no  higher  than  the  matter-womb  from  whence  it  comes. 
The  great  doctor  was  also  a  most  kindly  man,  and, 
after  the  white-faced  child  and  the  stern-faced  man 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

had  left  his  consulting  room,  he  asked  himself  many 
times  and  with  despair  in  his  weary  eyes ;  "  What  more 
can  I  do?  Is  there  nothing  more  known  to  science — 
no  real  aid  for  such  as  these  to  be  found  in  the  accumu- 
lated discoveries  of  the  centuries?  " 

From  this  time  there  began  for  Malcolm  a  period  of 
hopeless  invalidism  which  finally  made  him  long  to  die. 
He  had  no  words,  of  course,  in  which  to  formulate  his 
captive's  cry,  but  his  young  wings  beat  wearily  against 
the  cage  that  the  law  of  man  daily  built  about  him. 
What  better  than  imprisonment  was  this  death  in  life 
which  now  was  his  ?  Ruled  by  drugs  and  diet,  his  days 
became  one  monotonous  monochrome. 

Mr.  Saul,  who  would  have  cut  off  his  right  hand  to 
save  the  child,  in  the  ignorance  of  his  helpless  love 
barred  and  bolted  the  prison  gates.  Nay,  he  even  drove 
the  boy  deeper  into  the  dungeon  of  despair,  until  his 
young  heart  pined  and  panted  in  an  ever-narrowing 
cell. 

Summer  passed  and  autumn  found  Malcolm  Stuart 
no  better,  but  the  specialist  still  spoke  cheerfully  and 
ordered  him  to  Cannes. 

Mr.  Saul  never  hesitated.  If  his  nephew  must  winter 
in  the  south  of  France,  why  so  would  he.  His  own 
prospects  weighed  not  one  jot  with  him,  when  Malcolm 
pressed  down  the  scale  upon  the  other  side. 

So  together  they  went  to  Cannes ;  and  on  his  good 
days,  the  boy  would  seem  to  be  his  old  bright  self  and 
would  delight  his  uncle,  who  scarcely  left  his  side,  by 
talking  in  the  clever  strain  which  had  first  drawn  the 
reserved  man  to  the  little  child.  But  these  good  days 
were  few  and  far  between,  and  April  found  the  boy  no 
better,  though  no  worse;  except  that  his  nerves  were 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         267 

decidedly  weaker.  Now  it  was  that  his  guardian's  love 
was  severely  tested,  for  Malcolm  became  quite  unlike 
himself,  easily  irritated,  jealous  if  Uncle  Robert  stayed 
longer  from  his  side  than  usual,  exacting  and  scarcely 
grateful  for  the  deep  devotion  which  the  lonely  man 
lavished  upon  him.  Being  so  much  with  the  child  by 
day  meant  for  his  uncle  hours  of  hard  work  at  night,  for 
Mr.  Saul  was  the  last  man  to  neglect  his  parish  for  any 
private  call  upon  his  time,  and  letters — whole  sheaves 
of  them — arrived  daily  from  England  and  had  often  to 
be  answered  by  return  of  mail. 

So  the  two  came  back  to  London,  and  every  day  the 
iron  entered  more  deeply  into  the  soul  of  Robert  Saul ; 
for  struggle  as  he  did  with  all  his  might,  he  still  was 
beaten  at  every  turn.  Allopathy,  homoeopathy,  hy- 
giene, all  were  weighed  and  all  were  found  wanting. 

Then  one  cold  spring  day  things  seemed  to  reach  a 
climax.  The  evening  papers  contained  grave  news  for 
widow  and  orphan  and  for  many  another  besides.  The 
large  Indian  bankers  had  failed,  in  whose  hands  Mr. 
Saul  had  left  the  whole  of  Malcolm's  fortune! 

Life  for  the  last  year  had  been  for  him  so  filled  with 
the  battle  against  death,  that  he  had  neither  found 
time  nor  energy  to  invest  the  money.  In  one  way  it 
did  not  matter,  he  reflected,  for  he  would  of  course 
make  it  up  to  Malcolm  and  that  without  delay.  The 
sum  needed  to  do  this  was  large,  and  its  withdrawal 
from  his  own  capital  would  severely  cripple  him,  but 
there  was  no  question  in  his  mind,  for  he  held  himself 
responsible  for  every  penny  of  the  fortune  which  was 
now  lost  to  his  nephew.  True,  the  child  knew  nothing 
of  the  legacy,  and  his  mother  being  dead,  Mr.  Saul 
remained  the  sole  trustee,  but  at  once  he  sent  instruc- 


268         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

tions  to  his  lawyers  to  set  the  matter  right  for  Malcolm 
Stuart.  But,  even  as  he  sealed  the  letter,  he  gravely 
asked  himself  whether  the  boy  would  ever  reap  the 
fruits  of  what  amounted  to  a  very  considerable  sacri- 
fice upon  his  part.  To  economise  was  unnatural  to 
Robert  Saul,  though  he  was  too  shrewd  a  man  to  be 
tempted  to  foolish  extravagance. 

It  was  May  now,  and  to-morrow,  Mr.  Saul  suddenly 
decided,  he  would  take  Malcolm  to  the  country  on  to 
the  moors,  for  there  the  boy  would  renew  his  strength. 
Alone  in  his  study,  he  declared  aloud  that  Malcolm 
should  not  die !  His  passionate  exclamation  was  full 
of  the  pain  which  constantly  gnawed  at  his  heart,  but 
which  he  seldom  dared  to  face.  The  London  doctors 
were  mistaken !  He  would  take  the  boy  to  the  good 
old  village  doctor  who  had  saved  his  own  life  more 
than  twenty  years  ago.  Dr.  Reynolds  had  fathered  the 
village  children  for  nearly  a  generation ;  surely  he  un- 
derstood children  and  would  tell  what  ailed  the  boy 
and  quickly  set  him  up  again ;  by  some  simple  remedy 
perhaps,  some  common-sense  prescription,  too  simple  to 
be  catalogued  officially. 

That  night  Mr.  Saul  sat  long  by  the  child's  side, 
remaining  indeed,  until  the  heavy  eyes  closed  in  a 
drugged  slumber — it  had  come  to  that,  for  the  boy 
constantly  lay  awake  restless  and  excited,  until  a 
sedative  was  administered.  Now,  even  after  he  slept, 
Robert  Saul  continued  to  sing,  in  his  sweet  rich  tenor, 
the  soft  lullaby  which  Malcolm  loved  the  best.  At  last, 
assured  that  the  sleep  was  deep,  though  seemingly  not 
as  restful  as  it  should  have  been,  he  stole  from  the  room 
and  crept  his  way  downstairs,  careful  not  to  risk  awak- 
ening the  tired  child. 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         269 

His  dinner  had  been  waiting  and  was  spoilt.  His 
nerves  were  overstrung,  and  he  was  irritated  by  the 
circumstance  of  the  unappetising  meal.  This  caused 
him  to  act  stupidly,  as  an  angry  man  sometimes  does 
act,  by  going  dinnerless.  Hastily  swallowing  a  glass 
of  claret  he  left  the  dining-room  and  suddenly  faced 
a  woman  standing  in  the  hall. 

The  woman  approached  him  and  spoke  in  hurried, 
nervous  accents,  requesting  that  she  might  see  him 
alone.  She  wore  a  plain  dark  dress,  and  her  colourless 
face  and  pale  grey  eyes  seemed  familiar  to  Robert  Saul, 
though  his  tired  brain  could  not  recall  the  when,  or 
the  where,  of  their  previous  meeting.  He  entered  his 
study  mechanically  and  the  woman  followed  him. 

The  butler,  concluding  that  she  was  a  parishioner 
who  had  come  upon  business,  closed  the  door  after 
her,  and  Mr.  Saul  turned  to  find  his  visitor  regarding 
him  intently. 

"  I  have  hurried  home  from  Cannes,"  she  said,  "  for 
I  heard  a  few  days  after  I  arrived  there  of  your 
nephew's  illness.  The  news  brought  to  my  mind  a 
little  circumstance  which  I  had  quite  forgotten :  "  for 
a  moment  she  hesitated  and  moved  her  shifty  glance, 
then  she  continued  rapidly.  "  Your  sister,  Mrs.  Stuart, 
made  me  witness  this  just  before  she  died.  I  forgot 
it  altogether  until  the  other  day." 

Mr.  Saul  glanced  at  the  woman  swiftly  when  she 
spoke  of  his  sister,  and  now  he  instantly  recognised  her 
as  the  nurse  who  had  been  hurriedly  summoned  from 
an  adjacent  nursing  home,  when  Winnie  had  been  taken 
ill.  He  had  no  idea  what  could  be  the  contents  of 
the  envelope,  which  she  was  holding  out  to  him,  but  he 
saw  that  it  was  carefully  and  fully  addressed  to  him  in 


270         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

Winnie's  handwriting.  As  he  opened  it,  he  was  dis- 
tinctly conscious  of  a  feeling  of  antipathy  towards  the 
woman  who  stood  before  him.  He  was  certain  that  she 
had  lied  to  him  and  that,  for  some  purpose  of  her  own, 
she  had  retained  the  letter  for  over  a  year. 

With  a  curious  unwillingness  he  took  the  half-sheet 
of  paper  from  its  cover,  slowly  turning  towards  the 
light  and  feeling  all  the  time  consciously  restive  be- 
neath the  woman's  veiled,  but  penetrating  glance. 

The  letter  was  very  short,  but  it,  like  the  address 
upon  the  envelope,  was  written  by  his  sister's  hand. 
He  seemed  to  read  from  the  top  to  the  bottom  of  the 
page  in  one  single  glance;  indeed  it  almost  seemed  to 
him  that  the  words  leapt  up  to  meet  him.  His  face  grew 
more  stern,  and  the  woman,  her  eyes  still  watchful 
beneath  their  half-closed  lids,  noted  his  mental  dis- 
turbance, and  she  was  pleased.  "  Good,"  she  thought, 
"  I  did  right  to  wait.  Now  he  will  pay  me  well !  " 

Mr.  Saul  unlocked  the  rigid  hand  which  he  held  be- 
hind his  back  and  quietly  opened  the  door. 

"  Thank  you,"  he  said  curtly.  "  Good-evening," 
and  he  raised  his  hand  towards  the  bell 

The  woman's  face  fell,  but  only  for  an  instant,  she 
had  not  played  her  trump  card  yet ;  she  had  not  wished 
to  play  it  to-night,  but  "  needs  must,"  she  decided 
cynically,  "  when  the  devil  drives."  Mr.  Saul  did  not 
press  the  electric  button  over  which  his  finger  rested, 
for  he  saw  that  the  woman  had  not  stirred  and  that  she 
had  more  to  say.  "  Either,"  she  argued,  "  he  intends 
to  give  the  boy  up- — but  that  I  do  not  believe — or  he 
intends  to  burn  that  letter;  I  fancy  that  the  latter  is 
his  game ! " 

"If  you  will  shut  the  door," — her  voice  now  held 


THE     SEAMLESS    ROBE         271 

a  threatening  note — "  I  will  tell  you  something  further 
about  this  matter." 

But  she  had  made  a  false  move,  and  she  under- 
stood instantly  that  she  had  done  so,  for  Mr.  Saul's 
eyes  flashed  angrily  and  he  immediately  rang  the  bell. 
As  his  man  entered  the  room,  he  left  it,  saying  quietly, 
"  Open  the  front  door,  Ford."  But  he  too  had  made 
a  mistake,  though  he  did  not  know  it  then ;  for  the 
woman,  who  had  so  far  been  actuated  merely  by  a  love 
of  gain,  was  now  enraged  at  her  summary  dismissal 
in  the  presence  of  a  servant.  In  a  mind  both  mean  and 
cruel,  a  sense  of  injury  soon  bred  a  vindictive  thought 
which  one  day  she  would  barb  and  point  at  the  man's 
heart. 


CHAPTER    XXXII 

CONFUSION 

For   they   have    sown   the   wind,    and   they   shall   reap 
the  whirlwind. 

— Hosea. 

THAT  night  Robert  Saul  did  not  sleep  at  all.  Instead, 
indulging  the  habit  into  which  he  had  fallen  since  his 
sister's  death,  he  left  his  study  at  midnight  and  stole 
softly  up  to  Malcolm's  room.  The  child  slept,  though 
he  muttered  as  he  dreamed,  but  his  uncle  could  distin- 
guish nothing  that  he  said.  Once  he  thought  he  heard 
him  call  for  his  mother,  and  bending  over  the  boy  he 
kissed  him  many  times,  passionately,  but  very  gently. 
Finally,  he  knelt  beside  the  bed  and  prayed  that,  if  it 
was  His  will,  God  would  remove  this  last  most  bitter 
cup  from  his  lips.  He  knelt  there,  and  most 
earnestly  he  prayed,  but  when  he  arose  from  his  knees, 
he  did  so  quite  unrefreshed.  As  he  turned  to  leave  the 
room,  Malcolm  suddenly  rose  in  his  bed  and  beat  the 
air  with  his  thin  white  hands,  crying  out  with  a  sud- 
den, startled  scream.  Robert  gently  lifted  the  boy  to 
his  breast  and  murmured  endearing  words  over  him,  but 
the  child  struggled  and  still  cried  aloud.  Taking  him 
in  both  arms,  Mr.  Saul  walked  up  and  down  the  long 
bedroom,  the  room  which  had  been  Winnie's  and  was 
now  the  child's,  because  it  caught  the  morning  sun. 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         273 

Soon  Malcolm  slept  again,  and  Robert  laid  him  in 
his  bed,  staying  by  his  side,  until  he  was  sure  that  he 
was  really  resting  quietly.  Then  he  went  downstairs 
and  left  the  house  upon  one  of  the  long  midnight  ram- 
bles in  which  he  often  sought  to  work  off  the  unrest  of 
the  day. 

When  he  turned  homeward,  it  was  early  morning, 
and  he  was  mentally  and  physically  very  tired.  His 
mind  recurred  constantly  to  the  nurse's  visit,  and  he 
was  pursued  by  an  army  of  most  subtle  temptations. 
Should  he  burn  the  paper  that  the  woman  had  given 
him,  who  would  know?  No  one,  except  the  woman 
who  had  brought  it  to  him,  and  money  would  silence 
her;  besides,  she  could  prove  nothing!  Was  such  a 
document  legal?  He  doubted  it;  and  here  a  way  of 
escape  seemed  suddenly  to  open  before  him.  He  had 
only  occasionally  seen  Winnie  conscious  after  she  had 
fallen  at  his  feet  that  day,  and  he  had  watched  in  her 
sick  room  almost  continuously  until  she  died.  This 
paper  must  certainly  have  been  written  while  delirium 
held  its  sway.  The  doctors  would  support  this  view. 
But  even  as  he  argued  thus,  Robert  Saul  knew  that 
this  was  the  wide  road  that  leads  to  destruction ;  for 
in  his  heart,  he  believed  that  Winnie  had  been  perfectly 
sane  when  she  penned  those  few  clear  lines  to  him.  Her 
letter  was  dated  two  days  before  her  death,  before  the 
fever  had  overruled  her  mind.  He  knew  that  one  honest 
course  alone  lay  before  him,  but  it  was  the  road  that 
certainly  led  at  any  rate  to  a  temporary  separation 
between  himself  and  Malcolm,  and  he  could  not  take  it. 
He  would  not  give  up  the  child  even  for  a  time,  least  of 
all  to  those  strangers  whom  he  utterly  distrusted.  He 
himself  was  the  boy's  natural  guardian  in  sickness  as 


274         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

in  health  and  he  would  not  relinquish  that  which  he 
determinedly  designated  as  his  God-given  trust.  Win- 
nie must  have  been  mad,  or  she  would  never  have  writ- 
ten that  letter;  it  was  preposterous  to  suppose  that 
perfect  strangers — for  these  "  Meades  "  were  nothing 
more — would  care  for  her  child,  when  ill,  out  of  pure 
love!  And  Winnie,  at  the  time  she  wrote  that  letter, 
was  absolutely  unable  to  make  any  provision  for  the 
boy.  It  was  an  irrational  letter,  Robert  Saul  declared, 
showing  a  blind  infatuation  for  a  man  and  woman  of 
whom  she  had  known  practically  nothing.  He  himself 
knew  enough  of  their  principles — if  such  they  could  be 
called — to  justify  him  in  keeping  his  nephew  out  of 
their  hands.  He  believed  Christian  Science  to  be  the 
work  of  the  devil — one  of  the  most  dangerous  heresies 
indeed,  that  had  ever  enticed  men  and  women  away  from 
the  Catholic  Church.  For  years  Mr.  Saul  had  fought 
vehemently  and,  for  him,  with  wonderful  patience 
against  the  ever-growing  power  of  the  nonconformist ; 
and  the  bare  possibility  that  his  dearly-loved  nephew, 
one  of  his  own  kith  and  kin  and  the  being  upon  whom 
he  now  lavished  all  his  love,  might  grow  up  a  dissenter, 
was  gall  and  wormwood  to  his  orthodox  mind.  Should 
he  hand  the  child  over  to  these  "  Meades,"  even  for  a 
time,  they  would  of  course  educate  him  in  all  the  igno- 
rant superstition  of  their  cult.  As  Robert  Saul  pic- 
tured the  boy's  future,  influenced  by  such  tuition,  his 
imagination  painted  a  manhood  utterly  at  variance  with 
every  firmly  rooted  prejudice,  every  hereditary  dogma 
which  ruled  his  own  life.  He  believed  absolutely  that 
his  nephew's  ultimate  salvation  depended  upon  his  en- 
rolment among  the  members  of  the  Church.  He  would 
prefer  that  Malcolm  should  be  confirmed  in  that  branch 


THE     SEAMLESS    ROBE         275 

of  the  Catholic  Church — the  Church  of  England — to 
which  he  himself  belonged,  but  should  the  boy,  as  he 
grew  older,  elect  to  become  a  member  of  the  other 
branch — the  Church  of  Rome — he  should  not  oppose 
his  choice.  The  slight  differences  which  are  to  be  found 
between  the  opinions  of  the  Anglican  Churchman  of  the 
present  day  and  the  declared  adherent  of  the  Church 
of  Rome  he  regarded  as  unimportant.  He  had  some- 
times taken  Malcolm  to  a  Roman  Catholic  Church  when 
travelling  abroad.  The  child  had  appeared  to  enjoy 
both  early  mass  and  evensong,  more  than  he  did  any 
service  in  London.  A  career  of  honour  and  great  use- 
fulness plainly  lay  before  the  boy.  Splendidly  en- 
dowed with  brains,  he  only  needed  a  wise  guiding  hand 
to  direct  his  education  in  order  that  he  might  be  fitted 
for  almost  any  position. 

Thus  weaving  the  webs  of  a  fanciful  future  for 
Malcolm,  Mr.  Saul  forgot,  at  times,  the  child's  pre- 
carious state  of  health,  and  he  received,  for  the  second 
time  in  a  few  hours,  a  severe  shock  when  he  returned 
from  his  long  walk,  for  upon  opening  his  door  he 
saw  Malcolm  standing  upon  the  stairs.  The  hall  was 
only  dimly  lighted,  but  what  little  light  there  was  fell 
full  upon  the  small  white  figure,  and  Robert  Saul  was 
startled  at  the  death-like  pallor  of  the  face. 

"  Malcolm ! "  he  exclaimed,  and  hurried  forward,  but 
it  was  not  until  he  reached  the  child's  side  that  he  un- 
derstood what  was  happening.  Then  he  was  dismayed 
and,  for  the  moment,  helpless.  The  child  was  walking 
in  his  sleep.  Robert  Saul  had  never  before  watched  a 
somnambulist,  and  he  was  horrified  at  the  boy's  ap- 
pearance, for  his  face  worked  with  the  excitement  which 
controlled  him  and  which  had  evidently  brought  him 


276         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

from  his  bed.  Now  Malcolm  began  to  talk,  and  his 
uncle  heard  every  word  that  he  said,  for  the  boy  enun- 
ciated each  syllable  with  a  curious  distinctness.  He 
was  talking  quite  coherently  about  the  last  mathemati- 
cal problem  which  he  had  worked  out  a-  few  days 
previously.  He  reached  the  bottom  of  the  stairs,  while 
Mr.  Saul,  fascinated  into  inaction,  watched  him  as  he 
pressed  his  finger  upon  the  knob  and  turned  the  electric 
light  full  on.  Opening  the  study  door  the  child  went 
straight  to  his  own  little  writing  able,  and  sat  down 
in  the  revolving  chair  which  his  uncle  had  given  him 
a  few  months  previously.  Robert  Saul  followed  him, 
and,  vaguely  aware  of  a  warning  received  sometime, 
somewhere,  to  the  effect  that  a  somnambulist  must 
never  be  hastily  awakened,  he  was  careful  to  make  no 
noise  as  he  watched  the  boy,  who  now  lifted  a  pen  and 
dipped  it  in  the  ink.  Doubtless  the  child  intended  to 
work  out  some  problem  which  had  evidently  got  upon 
his  mind;  but  he  always  worked  in  pencil,  and  his 
uncle  wondered  why  he  now  so  carefully  chose  pen  and 
notepaper.  The  next  minute  Robert  Saul's  own  face 
whitened  and  suddenly  looked  old.  The  light  from  the 
hall  fell  clear  across  the  writing-table,  and  he  easily 
deciphered  each  word  as  the  boy  wrote  it.  Malcolm 
was  writing  a  letter  to  his  dead  mother!  Worn  out 
by  the  stress  of  the  last  few  hours  and  tired  by  his  long 
walk,  Mr.  Saul  sank  into  a  chair  beside  the  child  and 
covered  his  face  with  his  hands.  How  long  he  re- 
mained there  he  did  not  know,  but  he  was  presently 
roused  by  a  sudden  complete  silence  which  seemed  to 
possess  the  room.  He  dropped  his  hands  and  rose  in- 
voluntarily to  his  feet,  in  time  to  see  Malcolm  sitting 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         277 

with  a  troubled  face  before  the  letter,  which  he  had 
placed  in  an  envelope.  The  child  still  held  the  pen  in 
his  right  hand,  but  now  he  held  it  perfectly  still.  "  The 
address,"  he  muttered,  "  I  forget  the  address."  Then 
the  expression  of  his  face  changed,  and  Mr.  Saul,  terri- 
fied lest  the  boy  should  awaken  to  a  sudden  realisation 
of  the  truth,  started  forward  to  lead  him  back  to  bed. 
"  Mother,"  the  boy  muttered,  and  put  the  letter  in  his 
uncle's  hand. 

Until  that  night  Mr.  Saul  had  never  once  heard 
Malcolm  speak  of  his  mother  since  her  death,  and  it 
was  a  shock  to  the  man  who  contemplated  taking  a 
course  contrary  to  her  wishes,  to  hear  her  child  asking 
for  her  now.  Very  gently  he  lifted  the  boy  in  his  arms 
— how  light  the  burden  was !  Though  so  small  for  his 
age,  he  weighed  much  too  little,  surely !  Robert  had 
carried  the  child  about  his  bedroom  only  a  few  hours 
ago,  but  now  his  perception  was  doubtless  intensified 
by  anxiety.  He  spoke  softly  to  the  boy,  and  once  more 
crooned  the  favourite  lullaby,  while  Malcolm,  still 
asleep,  wound  his  arms  about  his  uncle's  neck  and  nes- 
tled against  him  with  a  little  sigh. 

Robert  did  not  take  the  boy  to  his  room,  but  laid 
him  instead  upon  his  own  bed,  and  watched  the  rest  of 
the  night  in  a  chair  beside  him.  And  as  he  watched  he 
suffered,  as  only  a  proud  and  sensitive  nature  can  suf- 
fer, under  self-inflicted  wrong.  For  his  mind  was  quite 
made  up.  To-morrow,  he  would  find  that  woman  and 
pay  her  anything  she  asked,  rather  than  part  for  a 
single  day  with  Malcolm,  who  was  all  that  he  now  had 
to  love  and  who  loved  him  as  no  one  else  ever  had  done. 
He  felt  again  the  touch  of  the  boy's  thin  arm  around 


278         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

his  neck  and  the  pressure  of  the  child's  head  upon  his 
breast,  and  he  swore  passionately  that  nothing  should 
part  them — neither  life  nor  death. 

The  morning's  post  brought  him  that  which  pushed 
him  one  step  further  upon  the  wide  road,  one  step 
lower  in  his  own  esteem.  The  woman  wrote  to  him, 
enclosing  her  address  and  a  promise  to  hand  over  to 
him  the  original  of  Mrs.  Stuart's  letter  (which  original 
she  now  confessed  that  she  had  withheld)  for  one  hun- 
dred pounds ! 

Robert  Saul  almost  laughed.  The  sum  was  too  ab- 
surd, when  compared  with  Malcolm's  love. 

That  afternoon  the  woman  called  again.  Mr.  Saul 
awaited  her  in  his  study,  and  there  received  from  her 
Winnie's  letter;  but  before  locking  it  safely  away  in 
the  old  bureau  in  which  he  kept  his  most  private  cor- 
respondence, he  compared  it  with  the  forged  copy  which 
she  had  left  with  him  the  day  before,  and  he  admitted 
to  himself  that  the  copy  was  indeed  a  cleverly  executed 
duplicate. 

The  woman  greedily  fingered  the  crisp  bank  notes 
which  Mr.  Saul  now  gave  her,  and  as  she  left  the  house, 
she  laughed.  "  Poor  fool !  to  order  me  off  yesterday 
like  that,  and  in  the  presence  of  his  servant,  too !  Poor 
fool ! "  And  she  laughed  again,  for  she  was  of  the 
nature  to  bear  a  grudge  until  the  measure  was  repaid, 
— "  full  measure,  pressed  down,  .  .  .  and  running 
over."  Her  "  pound  of  flesh "  she  must  and  would 
have.  "  Poor  fool !  he  will  regret  his  lordly  airs  one 
day!  Does  he  think  me  no  wiser  than  himself?  " 

Robert  Saul  sat  long  in  his  study  that  evening  and 
thought  upon  the  two  letters  which  had  so  disturbed 
the  current  of  his  life  during  the  last  twenty-four 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         279 

hours — one  from  Winnie,  and  one  to  Winnie !  He  had 
been  startled  when  he  saw  Malcolm  commence  that  letter 
to  his  dead  mother,  and  so  far  he  had  not  dared  to  read 
it.  But  now  he  drew  it  from  his  pocket  and  read  it 
slowly  through.  As  he  did  so,  his  strong  right  hand 
trembled,  and  his  brow  flushed.  Was  this  thing  true? 
Had  he  indeed  failed  in  the  one  direction  in  which  he 
most  desired  to  succeed?  It  would  seem  so,  for  Mal- 
colm's letter  to  his  dead  mother  was  just  a  simple  child- 
like cry  for  happiness.  Incoherent  in  parts,  it  yet 
maintained  its  purposeful  wail  throughout,  and  in  it 
the  child  reiterated  his  desire  to  come  to  her,  to  stay 
beside  her,  above  all,  to  be  happy  and  well  again ! 

Robert  Saul  groaned  as  he  pressed  his  head  back 
against  the  leather  of  his  chair.  So  he  had  stained 
his  hands  for  this !  The  boy  did  not  love  him  after 
all,  but  had  merely  acquired  a  habit  of  leaning  upon 
him,  as  the  weak  will  lean  upon  the  strong.  Pshaw! 
the  boy  had  been  asleep  and  knew  nothing  of  what 
he  wrote;  overwrought,  he  had  but  obeyed  the  dic- 
tates of  an  excited  brain. 

And  so  the  unhappy  man  threw  the  ball  to  and  fro 
and  found  but  sorry  comfort  in  the  game. 


CHAPTER    XXXIII 

THE  MAN-MADE  HELL  OF  MAN 

Long  is  the  way 
And  hard,  that  out  of  hell  leads  up  to  light. 

— Milton. 

MR.  SATTL  and  his  little  ward  were  now  upon  the  banks 
of  the  Dart.  Both  were  happier  than  they  had  been 
for  a  long  time.  The  village  doctor  or  the  pure  sweet 
air,  or  both  perhaps,  had  seemed  to  do  wonders  for 
Malcolm.  Their  departure  from  London  had  been  de- 
layed a  little,  for  at  last  Robert  Saul  was  a  bishop, 
the  youngest  bishop  yet  created. 

True,  he  knew,  what  only  a  few  others  would  ever 
know,  that  he  had  been  obliged  to  descend  in  his  own 
estimation  before  this  promotion  had  been  offered  to 
him,  though  for  a  long  time  he  had  steadily  refused  to 
work  the  matter  by  interest.  He  would,  he  had  de- 
clared, stand  upon  his  own  merits  alone  and  not  seek 
aid  from  the  good  will  of  any  private  friend.  But 
in  the  end  he  had  written  to  a  "  useful  man,"  and  now 
the  appointment  was  a  fait  accompli. 

He  had  since  been  revelling  in  a  quiet  week  with 
only  Malcolm  for  his  companion.  To-day,  however, 
he  must  leave  the  child  with  the  cheerful,  clever  nurse 
who  had  accompanied  them  to  Devonshire,  and  Malcolm 
was  actually  content  that  his  uncle  should  go  from 

280 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         281 

him,  the  purpose  being  to  inspect  more  minutely  their 
new  home. 

As  he  travelled  through  the  beautiful  English  coun- 
try, Robert  Saul  felt  almost  glad  again.  Malcolm  had 
kissed  him  lovingly  good-bye,  and  gripped  his  hand  so 
hard,  that  he  had  been  forced  gently  to  open  the  little 
fingers  before  they  would  release  him.  It  was  only 
now  that  he  was  de  facto  a  bishop,  that  he  realised  how 
much  he  had  desired  this  place  and  power.  To  rule 
was  natural  and  sweet  to  him,  and  now  his  kingdom 
would  be  large.  He  was  charmed  with  all  he  saw  at 
Exminster,  and  wrote  that  night  to  his  lawyers  in- 
structing them  to  dispose  of  his  London  house. 

The  climate  at  Exminster,  being  the  driest  and  sun- 
niest in  England,  was  the  very  thing  for  Malcolm,  and 
the  Palace  was  delightfully  situated  upon  a  hill.  Robert 
Saul  quickly  selected  a  beautiful  bedroom  for  the  boy — 
a  bright  room  looking  out  upon  a  sweet  old-world 
garden,  full  of  half-forgotten  flowers. 

Then  he  hurried  back  to  Devonshire,  eager  to  pour 
into  Malcolm's  ears  an  account  of  their  new  home.  In 
the  train  he  read  some  of  the  many  kind  and  eulogistic 
things  which  appeared  at  that  time  in  the  daily  papers 
about  the  new  Bishop  of  Exminster,  and  a  not  un- 
natural pride  flushed  his  brow,  for  he  knew  that  the 
praise  was  deserved  and  had  been  earned  by  strenu- 
ous toil. 

A  rather  tedious  wait  at  a  junction  was  followed  by 
a  short,  though  tiresome,  journey  upon  a  branch  line. 
Then  came  a  five-mile  walk,  for  apparently  his  wire, 
ordering  the  dogcart,  had  not  reached  in  time ;  at  any 
rate  the  cart  was  not  there. 

It  only  mattered  in  so  far  as  it  delayed  his  return  to 


282         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

Malcolm,  but  after  all  he  would  soon  be  with  the  child ; 
and  as  Robert  Saul  strode  across  the  moors,  he  joy- 
ously pictured  the  boy's  delight  when  he  should  hear 
all  that  he  had  to  tell  him.  The  day  was  lovely,  and 
he  was  a  little  disappointed  at  not  seeing  Malcolm  sit- 
ting in  his  low  chair  by  the  river  waiting  for  him. 
It  was  after  tea  time,  but  he  would  be  sure  to  have 
delayed  the  meal  until  his  uncle's  return,  so  that  they 
might  sit  down  together;  he  would  find  him  at  the 
cottage  door. 

At  the  garden  gate  the  nurse  met  him;  her  usually 
bright  face  was  grave,  and  dark  rings  about  her  eyes 
bespoke  recent  tears. 

"  I  could  not  send  the  cart  for  you,"  she  said,  "  I 
had  to  send  it  for  the  doctor :  he  is  with  Malcolm  now." 

Mr.  Saul  did  not  ask  a  single  question.  He  was 
too  shocked  to  think  connectedly.  Almost  in  a  stride 
he  reached  Malcolm's  room  and  stood  dejectedly  be- 
side the  bed. 

The  doctor  held  up  a  warning  hand.  "  I  have  just 
got  him  to  sleep,"  he  whispered,  **  the  pain  has  been 
awful." 

The  doctor  explained  that  the  spasms  of  pain  had 
lasted  longer  than  usual,  and  that  this  was  dangerous 
in  Malcolm's  weak  state.  "  I  was  afraid  of  this,"  he 
added,  "  the  heart—" 

"  Oh,  stop,"  Mr.  Saul  exclaimed,  "  and  tell  me  the 
truth  at  once,  will  he  live  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  was  the  slow  answer,  "  if  we  can  keep  his 
strength  up.  Keep  him  in  the  open  air,  and  don't  let 
him  get  excited.  I  would  not  cross  his  will  at  all, 
better  spoil  him  a  little  rather  than  have  any  excite- 
ment," 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         283 

And  thus  the  kindly  old  man  took  his  leave,  but  as 
he  turned  the  corner  and  left  the  cottage  out  of  sight, 
he  shook  his  head  gravely  and  sighed  a  little,  for  he 
knew  that  the  child  was  passing  beyond  all  human 
aid. 

Now  a  time  of  test  and  trial  such  as  he  had  never 
yet  known,  set  in  for  Robert  Saul:  Malcolm  grew 
weaker  every  day,  refusing  to  rest  except  in  his  uncle's 
arms.  He  had  taken  on  a  sick  child's  whim  and  would 
never  remain  for  a  moment  in  the  house.  Wonderful 
weather  made  it  possible  for  him  to  be  out  all  day  long 
and,  when  the  sun  went  down  and  the  evening  breeze 
blew  chill,  his  uncle  would  wrap  the  boy  in  a  shawl  and 
tramp  the  moors  for  miles  with  him  in  his  arms,  carry- 
ing his  light  burden  tenderly,  as  a  woman  carries  that 
which  she  loves  and  fears  to  lose. 

Often  the  man  himself  was  very  weary,  for  his 
•strength  seemed  now  to  be  far  less  than  heretofore, 
but  Malcolm,  self-engrossed,  never  noticed  this,  and 
was  often  impatient  if  "  Uncle  Robert  "  rested  too 
long  upon  the  rough  stone  walls  or  kindly  hillocks 
which  dotted  the  moors. 

And  yet  in  his  somewhat  selfish  way  he  loved  the 
deeply  loving  man  who  tended  him  day  and  night. 
Indeed,  a  world  with  no  "  Uncle  Robert "  in  it  would 
have  seemed  impossible  to  Malcolm  at  this  period  of 
his  life.  He  never  troubled,  however,  to  contemplate 
anything  beyond  his  near  vision,  for  he  was  very  tired 
always  and  wanted  only  to  sleep  day  and  night.  But 
even  when  he  slept,  he  seemed  to  know  if  Robert  left 
him  for  a  time,  and  would  instantly  grow  restless,  some- 
times crying  out  as  though  afraid.  When  awake  he 
clung  to  his  uncle  with  a  pathos  resulting  partly  from 


284         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

his  helpless  state,  partly  from  his  lonely  little  life,  and 
under  all  there  lay  a  deep  conviction  that  in  all  the 
world  there  was  no  one  else  so  clever  or  so  strong  as 
"  Uncle  Robert." 

So  it  came  about  that  Bishop  Saul,  who  could  no 
longer  be  absent  from  his  new  diocese,  planned  to 
take  Malcolm  home  to  Exminster;  but  every  day  the 
doctor  pleaded  for  delay  in  order  that  the  child  might 
first  gain  strength  for  the  journey;  and  Malcolm  him- 
self seemed  to  cling  to  the  murmuring  river,  and  the 
wide  beauty  of  the  moor,  and  begged  continually  for 
"  just  another  day."  At  last  the  time  came  when 
Robert's  poor  blind  eyes  were  opened  and  he  read 
aright  the  doctor's  meaning  glance.  He  himself  had 
not  slept  properly  for  months  and  was  physically  quite 
unfit  to  bear  the  continuous  strain  of  his  little  nephew's 
illness.  For  days  and  nights,  indeed,  he  had  not  gone 
to  bed  at  all,  and  now  it  began  to  tell,  even  upon  his 
splendid  constitution. 

Desperately  he  had  fought  for  this  loved  life;  des- 
perately he  had  prayed  that  this  one  little  heart  might 
be  left  to  love  him,  and  now — the  doctor  would  not  let 
him  even  hope ! 

That  evening  Bishop  Saul  walked  further  than  usual 
with  the  child  and  returned  to  find  the  nurse,  whose 
kind  heart  was  growing  anxious,  watching  at  the  gate. 
She  lifted  her  arms  to  take  the  boy,  but  Robert  Saul 
motioned  her  peremptorily  aside,  and  strode  into  the 
cottage  with  his  burden.  She  noticed  that  he  stag- 
gered as  he  walked,  and  that  night  she  told  the  doctor 
of  strange,  incoherent  mutterings  which,  grumbling 
through  the  thin  cottage  walls,  reached  her  from  the 
Bishop's  room. 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         285 

"  Can't  you  give  him  something  to  quiet  his  nerves  ?  " 
she  asked.  "  He  is  worn  out  with  the  mental  strain, 
and  he  tries  his  physical  strength  too  far  in  taking 
these  unheard  of  walks." 

"  Medicine  will  not  help  him,"  the  old  doctor  an- 
swered ;  "  but — it  will  soon  be  over  now,  and  then  his 
new  work  will  engross  him.  I  know  the  Bishop  well, 
he  must  live  hard ;  it  is  the  nature  of  some  men." 

That  night  Robert  Saul,  contrary  to  his  custom,  left 
Malcolm's  side  directly  the  child  slept.  He  could  not, 
he  would  not,  stay  and  see  him  die.  He  called  the 
nurse  and  waited  until  he  was  sure  that  she  had,  close 
to  hand,  all  that  she  needed  for  the  child's  comfort, 
and  then  he  immediately  left  the  house. 

The  night  was  perfectly  still  and  nearly  dark,  but 
Bishop  Saul  knew  almost  every  foot  of  the  rough  roads 
that  intersected  the  moors  in  every  direction.  He 
walked  mile  after  mile,  never  pausing  until  he  reached 
the  valley  to  which  he  had  carried  Malcolm  that  day. 
There  he  rested,  but  not  for  long;  his  misery  moved 
him  to  restless  action. 

Hurrying  through  bracken  and  wild  wortleberries, 
his  foot  was  suddenly  arrested,  so  that  he  almost  fell. 
Through  the  semi-darkness  he  discerned  a  huge  mono- 
lith not  two  paces  from  him.  Now  the  mystery  of  the 
moor  possessed  Robert  Saul,  and  for  a  moment  with- 
drew his  thought  from  the  present,  flinging  it  back 
upon  the  shrouded  past.  How,  he  asked  himself,  had 
prehistoric  man  moved  the  roughly  hewn  stone  of  vast 
girth  upon  which  he  now  stood? — primitive  man,  with- 
out mechanical  aid?  Had  not  each  rocky  slab  a  story 
to  tell  of  patience  and  strength  unequalled  by  the  men 
of  his  own  day,  whose  hurried  lives  left  no  opportunity 


286         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

for  the  full  development  of  that  calm  and  quiet  domin- 
ion over  self  and  circumstance,  with  which  man  must 
be  endowed,  if  he  would  do  enduring  good  and  add  a 
golden  page  to  the  history  of  the  world? 

Once  more  he  walked  for  hours,  and  when  again  he 
stopped  he  found  that  his  unconscious  thought  had 
directed  his  steps  back  to  the  head  of  the  vale.  It 
looked  gloomy  in  the  light  of  the  pale  new  moon  which 
was  about  to  set  and  which  was  so  beclouded  that  no 
detail  of  the  landscape  was  discernible.  Yes,  just  one 
thing  the  Bishop  could  see  distinctly,  but  perhaps  that 
was  because  he  had  so  often  remarked  it  before.  There 
upon  the  hillside,  near  the  bottom  of  the  valley,  was 
a  single  tree;  motionless  it  stood  in  the  airless  summer 
night,  dark  and  lonely  always  in  its  perfect  isolation — 
a  thing  apart,  a  looker-on  at  the  friendly  life  of  the 
valley.  Pairing  birds  flew  over  its  head  in  springtime, 
not  pausing  to  rest  upon  its  branches,  not  caring  to 
carol  from  its  top.  All  summer  busy-winged  insects 
buzzed  merrily  among  the  heather  near  its  base,  eat- 
ing of  the  flowers'  sweetness,  but  the  tree  had  seemingly 
no  part  in  life,  and  stood  there  dreary  and  alone,  al- 
ways alone,  as  he  would  be  upon  the  morrow ! 

Robert  Saul  thought  that  the  tree  was  like  himself, 
a  thing  to  be  pitied,  yet  quite  beyond  the  help  of  man. 
But  nothing  really  held  place  in  his  mind  that  night, 
except  the  gnawing  pain  at  his  heart.  All  day  long  he 
had  been  fiercely  rebellious;  he  had  fought  this  fight 
for  Malcolm  so  hard,  and  for  so  long,  and  yet  he  had 
lost.  Now,  hour  after  hour,  he  sought  to  resign  his 
will  to  that  of  the  Deity  whom  he  worshipped  and  who, 
he  was  accustomed  to  declare,  could  order  nothing 
wrongly,  But  he  completely  failed.  He  could  not 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         287 

resign  himself;  he  could  not  meekly  contemplate  the 
blank  which  Malcolm's  death  would  make  in  his  life. 
He  was  ashamed  that  it  was  so,  for  often  he  had 
preached  the  gospel  of  resignation,  and  always  he  had 
supposed  that  he  himself  would,  if  called  upon  to  do 
so,  be  able  to  practise  that  which  he  so  perpetually 
preached.  But  the  hour  was  upon  him  and  it  found 
him  breaking  his  heart  over  the  anticipated  death  of  a 
little  child. 

Utterly  exhausted,  he  at  last  threw  himself  full 
length  upon  the  heather  and  pillowed  his  head  upon 
his  folded  arms.  Now  he  saw,  or  thought  he  saw,  in  the 
darkness  of  the  valley  below,  Malcolm's  face,  and  he 
seemed  to  hear,  in  the  silence  of  the  night  about  him, 
Malcolm's  voice ;  almost  he  felt  the  touch  of  Malcolm's 
arms  around  his  neck.  .  .  .  Now  it  was  Winnie's 
face  that  he  saw  and  Winnie's  voice  that  he  heard. 
And  was  not  that  Winnie's  form  that  floated  across 
the  valley  and  was  lost  when  it  reached  the  lonely 
tree?  .  .  .  He  buried  his  face  in  his  hands  and 
longed  for  the  relief  of  a  woman's  tears.  But  no  com- 
fort came ;  instead,  a  weary  question  beat  within  his 
brain ;  "  Is  there  no  help,  is  there  nothing  that  can 
be  done?  "  Presently  the  hopeless  question  left  his 
tired  brain,  and  from  his  heart  a  silent  cry  arose. 

"  My  God !  my  God !  tell  me  what  to  do,  and  I  will 
do  it.  *  Speak,  Lord ;  for  thy  servant  heareth  ' !  " 

At  last  he  arose  and  seated  himself  upon  a  fallen 
tree,  and  presently  he  slept — slept  just  as  he  sat,  with 
his  face  held  within  his  hands ;  his  elbows  upon  his 
knees;  his  great  figure  heaped  together. 

But  before  he  slept,  he,  overwrought,  asked  again 
and  again  another  question.  "  Death !  and  what  be- 


288         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

yond?  "  How  the  thought  of  Winnie  haunted  him — • 
Winnie,  white  and  still,  standing  with  her  arms  out- 
stretched across  the  dark  oak  of  the  door;  thus  form- 
ing a  human  cross ;  then  Winnie,  fallen  at  his  feet, 
moaning  in  her  speechless  pain. 

Dully,  stupidly  his  dazed  thought  sought  an  an- 
swer to  his  question,  but  nothing  definite  could  formu- 
late in  a  mind  darkened  with  the  fear  of  death.  His 
last  conscious  thought,  however,  was  an  unconscious 
prayer  for  light,  and  before  he  slept  his  heart  over- 
flowed with  a  silent  longing  which  became  the  prayer 
of  true  desire. 

Very  early  that  morning  Doctor  Reynolds  drove 
across  the  moor.  He,  too,  had  spent  the  night  in 
fighting  death;  and  he  had  lost  the  battle.  It  was 
scarcely  an  hour  ago  that  he  had  gently  laid  a  tiny 
lifeless  form  upon  a  pillow,  and  left  it  there  amid  the 
billowy  mass  of  lace  and  cambric  which  almost  hid 
the  new-born  babe  whose  life  had  seemed  to  last  for 
just  one  hour. 

The  doctor  had  hastened  away  from  the  house  of 
mourning.  Of  what  use  to  stay?  He  could  do  noth- 
ing to  heal  the  broken  heart  which  now  beat  over- 
quickly  with  longing  for  its  dead;  nothing  to  chase 
the  unshed  tears  away  from  eyes  too  proud  to  manifest 
a  woman's  weakness,  even  while  the  mind  knew  all  of 
a  woman's  pain.  All  that  man  might  do  for  man, 
he  did.  One  strong,  silent  hand-clasp,  acknowledged 
by  a  single  word  of  gratitude  in  a  voice  made  stern  by 
suffering,  was  all  that  had  passed  before  he  left  the 
house.  Now,  as  he  drove  across  the  wide  moor  in  the 
early  dawn,  he  thought  of  the  lonely  man  whom  he  had 
just  left, — wifeless  husband,  childless  father — for  both 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         289 

mother  and  child  were  dead !  Bride  and  babe  lay  side 
by  side.  He  had  tried,  with  all  the  art  of  which  he 
was  the  master,  to  save  them — and  had  failed.  It  had 
happened  so  before  and,  he  reflected,  it  would  happen 
so  again  in  spite  of  four  thousand  years  of  science. 
Death,  he  thought,  is  cruel.  This  young  wife,  wedded 
but  a  year  ago!  Could  not  death  have  passed  her 
by  for  a  little  while  at  least?  Ah,  well! — and  the 
doctor  sighed, — no  doubt  she  understands  by  now;  no 
doubt  by  now,  she  has  solved  the  problem  of  her  being ! 

Nay!  not  yet  does  she  know,  even  as  she  is  known. 
How  should  she  learn  the  law  of  Life  from  the  ac- 
cursed mouth  of  death — death,  which  knows  not  Life, 
nor  ever  can.  Nay,  she  does  not  know  as  yet.  How 
should  she  ?  Did  she  not  die  believing  in  a  power  apart 
from  God?  Search,  my  brother,  search  the  deep  things 
of  Good.  Listen  to  the  words  of  him  called  "  Wonder- 
ful," for  they  are  light  and  they  are  life,  holding  within 
their  sacred  depth  no  hint  nor  taste  of  foul  corrup- 
tion's breath.  Hast  thou  not  heard,  my  brother  man, 
that  "  Jesus  Christ  hath  abolished  death  and  hath 
brought  life  and  immortality  to  light  through  the  gos- 
pel," thereby  revealing  Man,  reconciled  to  God — Man 
forever  glorious  in  the  deathless  reality  of  his  true 
being  ? 

Awake!  Awake,  thou  sleeping  world!  Too  long 
hast  thou  lain  quiescent,  fast-locked  within  the  arms 
of  mental  lethargy.  Too  long  hast  thou  dreamed  the 
years  away.  Turn  thee !  Rouse  thee !  Open  thy  fast- 
closed  eyes!  For  behold  the  day  is  at  hand! 

Get  thee  hence,  thou  deep  oblivion !  Thou  phantom 
Death,  thou  dark  Deception,  get  thee  hence!  Back! 
Back  to  thy  native  nothingness  thou  must  return.  For 


290         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

see !  What  says  the  prophet  of  the  Lord?  "  Unto  you 
that  fear  my  name  shall  the  sun  of  righteousness  arise 
with  healing  in  his  wings ; "  thus,  for  "  them  that  be- 
lieve "  the  world  is  flooded  with  his  light,  flooded  with 
the  light  of  Life  eternal  and  Love  divine:  for  God  is 
Life,  and  "  God  is  Love  "  and  God  is  "  All-in-All." 
What  then  is  death? — and  where? 


PART  V 

WHITE  WARP  AND  WOOF  IN  THE  LOOM  OF 

MIND 


CHAPTER    XXXIV 

LOOKING  TOWARDS  THE   LIGHT 
And  a  little  child  shall  lead  them. 


— Isaiah. 


DR.  REYNOLDS,  tired  out  with  his  anxious  and  sleepless 
night,  now  gave  the  reins  to  the  young  lad  who  sat 
beside  him.  Glancing  idly  round  the  moor,  he  was 
startled  to  see  a  dark  figure,  sharply  defined  against 
the  sky-line;  it  was  that  of  a  man  seated  in  an  atti- 
tude of  deep  dejection  and  apparently  quite  still. 

"  Drive  on  and  draw  up  round  there,"  he  said  to  his 
youthful  groom,  pointing  to  a  sharp  bend  in  the  road. 

The  boy  obeyed,  and  Dr.  Reynolds  climbed  down 
a  little  stiffly  from  his  seat,  for  he  was  not  so  active 
as  he  had  been  before  that  sharp  attack  of  gout  a  year 
ago. 

"  Wait  here  for  me,"  he  ordered,  and  turning,  he 
retraced  his  way  on  foot  along  the  road,  until  that  still 
figure  came  again  into  view.  Apparently  the  man 
had  not  stirred  a  hair's  breadth ;  and  now,  though  yet 
a  long  way  off,  the  doctor  recognised  the  Bishop  of 
Exminster  by  his  dress,  and  a  sudden  fear  shot  through 
his  mind.  There  was  something  unnatural  in  the  rigid 
quiet  of  the  man's  great  form.  But  as  he  approached 
him,  his  anxiety  was  suddenly  relieved,  for  Bishop  Saul 
raised  his  head  and  spoke. 

293 


294         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

"Have  you  come  for  me,  Reynolds?     Is  is  over?" 

"  No,  man,  no." 

The  doctor  spoke  roughly,  as  a  man  will  sometimes 
when  in  pain,  and  the  old  doctor  was  both  pained  and 
shocked  at  the  stricken  look  upon  the  face  before  him, 
for  he  read  more  than  grief  in  Robert  Saul's  wild  eyes 
as  they  questioned  him. 

"  Here,  man !  "  he  said  peremptorily,  "  swallow  two 
of  these,  and  then  drive  home  with  me." 

The  Bishop  took  the  tiny  pellets,  and  laughed  gently, 
and  for  a  long  time. 

"The  same  that  Malcolm  takes?"  he  said;  "no, 
thank  you,  Reynolds,  my  heart  is  right  enough ! "  and 
he  laughed  again  in  a  quiet  unmirthful  way  which  made 
Doctor  Reynolds  uneasy. 

He  did  not,  however,  press  the  point,  but  instead 
he  sat  down  beside  his  friend  and  mused  for  some 
minutes  in  silence.  Twice  he  almost  spoke,  but  twice 
he  closed  his  lips  upon  the  words. 

"  I  have  thought  of  something,"  he  said  at  last, 
"  that  you  might  try  for  Malcolm.  I  do  not  under- 
stand much  about  it — it  is  mental  suggestion  of  a 
sort,  I  suppose — but  I  cannot  disbelieve  in  its  curative 
power;  the  time  has  passed  for  that.  Have  you  ever 
heard  of  Christian  Science?" 

Now  the  Bishop's  laugh  rang  out  so  loud  and  harsh 
across  the  moor  that  it  reached  the  waiting  groom, 
startling  him  into  a  lazy  wonder  whence  it  came. 

"Yes,"  the  Bishop  answered,  "Yes!     Yes!  " 

Bishop  Saul  looked  at  his  friend  and  laughed  again. 
Had  he  ever  heard  of  Christian  Science?  Why,  had 
not  Winnie  sat  beside  him  the  long  night  through,  as, 
indeed,  she  had  sat  many  times  of  late,  usually  upon 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         295 

the  arm  of  his  chair  as  she  had  done  that  night  not 
long  before  she  died,  and  had  she  not  asked  again 
the  self-same  question  which  she  had  asked  him  then? 
Had  not  the  darkness  down  there  in  the  valley  shrieked 
with  Winnie's  question?  Had  not  Winnie's  form 
floated  round  his  feet  in  the  early  dawn !  Remember- 
ing, Robert  Saul  laughed  again  and  again,  but  very 
quietly  now.  Then,  he  became  suddenly  silent,  and 
after  awhile  he  answered,  as  he  had  answered  Winnie 
that  night  in  London. 

"  I  know  all  about  Christian  Science."  And  as  he 
pressed  his  hands  upon  his  burning  eyes,  he  said  once 
more.  "  Yes — yes — I  know  all  about  Christian 
Science." 

"  Then  you  know  that  it  heals  the  sick?  "  the  doctor 
spoke  emphatically,  wishful  to  steady  the  Bishop's 
wandering  thought:  but  he  was  frightened  at  the  un- 
expected result  of  his  words,  for  the  man  beside  him 
rose  upon  the  instant  to  his  feet  repeating,  over  and 
over  again  with  a  new  excitement  in  his  tone ;  "  It 
heals  the  sick ! "  The  next  moment  he  was  out  of 
sight.  Round  the  bend  of  the  road  Robert  Saul  came 
upon  the  doctor's  waiting  cart.  "  Ah !  "  he  muttered 
softly,  and  leapt  upon  the  step.  And  now  the  aston- 
ished groom  held  on  as  best  he  might,  looking  backward 
and  wondering  where  his  master  was,  for  Bishop  Saul 
was  whipping  the  horse  savagely,  and  the  animal,  used 
only  to  a  placid  hand,  reared  upon  the  road. 

"  Horse  fresh?"     The  Bishop's  tone  was  curt. 

"  Yes,  sir,  just  out,"  and  the  boy  stole  an  uneasy 
glance  at  his  strange  companion. 

For  now  they  raced  along  the  road  until  they 
reached  a  spot  from  which  a  footpath  branched  across 


296         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

the  moor.  The  stern  driver  bent  his  hand,  and  turned 
the  horse's  head;  and  now  they  rocked  from  side  to 
side  as,  in  perilous  haste,  he  drove  the  cart  along  a 
path  made  only  by  the  foot  of  man.  But  it  saved  two 
miles  or  more,  and  Malcolm  lay  at  the  other  end,  so 
what  mattered  if  they  pitched  and  staggered  like  a 
ship  upon  a  roughened  sea?  Now  the  cottage  was 
in  sight,  and  the  Bishop  drew  the  horse  up  on  his 
haunches  and  left  the  trap,  even  while  it  tilted  with 
the  sudden  halt;  another  moment,  and  he  stood  by 
Malcolm's  bed;  then,  as  he  looked  upon  the  child, 
his  wild  excitement  fell  into  a  short  calm. 

Quietly  leaving  the  boy's  room  he  entered  his  own 
and  unlocked  a  drawer.  Selecting  a  bundle  of  papers, 
he  withdrew  from  among  them  an  old  postcard.  Care- 
fully scanning  the  few  lines  which  were  written  upon 
it,  he  replaced  it,  but  not  until  he  had  noted  in  his 
pocket-book  a  certain  address — the  address  which  had 
been  sent  to  his  sister,  Winnie,  not  long  before  she 
died.  He  now  returned  to  Malcolm's  room  and  deftly, 
though  with  a  trembling  hand,  he  wound  a  blanket 
round  the  boy  and  then  gently  lifted  him  upon  his 
breast.  If  he  heard  the  nurse's  frightened  protest,  he 
did  not  heed  it,  further  than  to  whisper  sternly, 
"  Hush!  do  not  wake  the  child!  " 

Now  he  sat  in  the  cart  again  and  Malcolm  lay  sleep- 
ing in  his  strong  embrace,  while  he  roughly  bade  the 
youth  drive  to  Saignton  Station.  Five  miles  before 
them  still!  five  long  miles  of  rough  moorland  road! 

"  Drive  faster,"  the  Bishop  said,  and  leant  across 
and  reached  the  whip. 

Swift  rush !  wild  gallop !  and  the  good  horse  flung 
the  soft  earth  back  upon  his  track,  as  he  answered  to 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         297 

the  stern  voice  which  urged  him  on.  The  terrified 
groom  supposed  that  he  drove  a  madman  to  the  train, 
and  cared  not  how  soon  he  reached  the  safe  company 
of  his  fellow  men. 

"  Faster,  man ! "  the  Bishop  hissed  between  set  lips, 
whitened  by  the  stressful  thought  that  ruled  his  mind. 
One  minute  more  and  they  would  be  there!  When 
hark !  a  whistle  sounds !  a  shriek  rises  shrilly  through 
the  air,  and  white  smoke  greets  them  as  they  reach 
the  station  yard. 

The  groom,  speechless  with  dismay,  stole  a  look  at 
the  man  beside  him.  The  Bishop's  head  was  bent  upon 
the  sleeping  child,  but  quite  suddenly  he  raised  it. 

"  Quick,'*  he  said,  "  drive  through  the  Park,  by 
the  south  gate — we  may  catch  it  yet  at  Trentwood. 
There  is  no  other  train  to-day." 

The  boy  hesitated.  "  The  public  is  no'  let  in  till 
ten,"  he  said,  "  I  dursn't  do  it."  ' 

"  Then  lighten  the  trap,  you  fool,"  and  the  now 
desperate  man  rose  to  his  feet  and  lifting  the  lad  threw 
him  upon  the  road. 

Then  cradling  his  living  burden  once  more  upon 
his  breast,  he  closed  his  right  hand  upon  the  reins. 
At  the  same  moment,  embracing  the  child  in  his  strong 
left  arm,  he  turned  the  cart  about  and  headed  for  the 
south  gates  of  Trentwood  Park. 

"Ho,  Death!"  he  cried.  "I  will  race  with  thee, 
and  Malcolm,  little  Malcolm,  shall  be  the  prize!  O 
grave ! "  he  whispered,  "  where  is  thy  sting  and  where 
thy  victory?  " 

The  Park  gates  were  but  half  open,  and  as  the  horse 
dashed  through  them,  the  cart  left  its  mark  upon  the 
post.  A  sleepy  keeper  turned  and  shouted  his  startled 


298         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

protest  to  ears  fast  closed  to  outward  sound,  because 
attentive  only  to  the  inward  thought.  The  garden 
gates  stood  open!  Good!  he  would  turn  in  there,  for 
thus  they  could  save  a  good  half-mile.  The  Bishop 
drew  so  sharply  upon  the  near  rein  that,  for  one  breath 
of  time,  the  trap  stood  at  a  perilous  angle,  and  the  man 
held  the  child  closer  with  a  sudden  fear,  lifting  him 
high  upon  his  breast.  And  now ! — a  rush  along  the 
smooth  white  drive  between  the  blood-red  rhododen- 
drons !  a  flash  past  my  lord's  open  window,  and  the  way 
will  lie  downhill.  Soon  they  will  be  at  Trentwood 
Station,  while  the  train  must  wend  its  slow  and  circuit- 
ous way  around  the  outskirts  of  his  lordship's  land  and 
up  a  long  and  steep  incline  before  it  can  be  there. 

"  Aha !  "  and  the  Bishop  shivers  as  a  sudden  thought 
leaps  within  his  brain.  "  The  lower  gate !  what  if 
that  should  be  locked  ?  " 

But  Robert  Saul,  mad  or  sane,  was  not  a  man  to 
succumb  to  any  adverse  circumstance  without  a  goodly 
fight.  So  he  set  his  strong  white  teeth  and  stung  the 
good  horse  into  a  larger  stride.  As  he  did  so  a  dark 
shadow  seemed  to  fall  across  his  eyes  and  he  swung 
a  little  in  his  seat,  but  almost  instantly  it  was  gone, 
and  he  sat  upright  again,  and  now,  he  faced  the  gate, 
and  saw  that  it  was  shut !  But  not  locked,  perhaps ! 
Shortening  the  reins,  he  leapt  from  the  cart,  and  the 
weary  horse,  though  bravely  answering  to  the  man's 
great  need,  was  yet  glad  to  rest,  if  only  while  the  gate 
should  swing  upon  its  hinges.  His  sides  rose  and 
fell  with  distressful  effort,  as  the  sweat  ran  out  from 
every  pore,  while  he  quivered  in  each  limb. 

The  Bishop,  careful  even  in  his  desperate  haste  to 
note  that  Malcolm  no  longer  slept  but  moaned  in  half- 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         299 

unconscious  pain,  gently  rested  the  child  across  the 
bottom  of  the  cart.  The  gate  was  locked,  but  Robert 
Saul  was  not  beaten  yet — he  would  fight  this  battle 
to  the  end.  For  one  helpless  second  only  he  glanced 
around;  the  next,  he  stooped  swiftly  and  wound  his 
great  arms  about  a  baby  sapling  which  grew  beside 
the  fence.  Now  tree  and  man  swayed  as  one;  then 
the  man  hurled  his  concentrated  weight  upon  the  sap- 
ling's bending  form  till  it  slowly  yielded  its  bleeding 
roots  into  the  hand  that  tore  them  from  their  home. 

Robert  Saul,  possessed — as  sometimes  is  the  case 
with  those  whom  men  call  mad — with  a  strength  be- 
yond his  own,  lifted  the  tree,  and  swung  it  at  the  fence, 
and  soon  the  way  was  open  where  the  broken  timber 
lay,  for  it  proved  to  be  less  strong  than  new  paint 
made  it  appear,  and  man  and  cart  stood  together  upon 
the  further  side. 

Now  he  drove  upon  the  country  road  again.  A 
short  mile  of  ruts  and  hardened  mud,  six  hundred 
yards  of  narrow  lane,  and  Trentwood  Station  would 
be  in  sight !  Bishop  Saul  knew  every  inch  of  the  high 
banks  which  he  now  found  upon  either  side  of  him, 
for  he  had  left  the  moor  beyond  the  southern  gate 
and  was  nearing  his  boyhood's  home;  just  here  the 
lane  narrowed  abruptly  and  the  drive  was  nearly  over, 
when  the  turn  of  a  sharp  corner  brought  to  view  a 
farm  cart  making  slow  way  towards  them. 

"  Into  the  hedge,"  the  Bishop  shouted.  "  Quick !  for 
I  must  catch  the  train !  " 

The  rustic  driver,  sympathetic,  but  unused  to  hurry, 
jerked  his  horse's  mouth  and  with  slow  persuasion 
brought  his  cart  to  a  tedious  halt.  It  scarce  yielded 
half  the  road,  its  great  wheel  crushing  the  white  and 


300         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

purple  periwinkle  which  formed  a  bright  mosaic  upon 
either  side  of  the  grassy  lane.  He  doubted,  however, 
that  the  light  vehicle  could  find  room  to  pass  him,  for 
the  road  here  was  none  too  wide  for  one ! 

By  a  mighty  effort  of  self-control,  Bishop  Saul 
curbed  his  action  to  a  quiet  guiding  of  his  horse,  for 
he  believed  that  there  was  just  room  for  them  to  pass, 
but  to  work  out  such  a  problem  correctly  with  a  life 
at  stake,  needed  a  calm  which  strained  his  nerves  al- 
most, it  seemed,  to  snapping  point. 

"  You'll  no*  catch  the  train  I'm  thinking." 

The  rustic's  placid  interest  was  more  than  a  desper- 
ate man  could  bear,  and  Robert  Saul  rose  up  to  his 
full  height  and  leapt  upon  the  road  with  Malcolm  in 
his  arms !  Ah !  the  wildness  of  that  wild  race,  and  the 
thunderous  beating  of  his  heart! 

"Your  ticket,  sir?" 

The  Bishop  paused  long  enough  to  stand  quite  still, 
while  he  laughed  quietly  in  the  man's  face;  then,  even 
as  the  guard  shouted,  "  Keep  back,"  he  wrenched  the 
man's  hand  from  the  van  door  and,  holding  one  arm 
strongly  about  the  child,  stood  within  the  train. 

He  sat  through  the  long  journey  as  they  crept  upon 
their  way,  like  a  dreamer  half  awake.  That  mad  wild 
drive  was  ever  with  him!  Mad,  in  the  manner  of  its 
doing,  as  is  the  action  sped  onward  by  the  mind  dis- 
eased, but  sane  in  its  underlying  purpose;  as  is  the 
impelling  motive  that  stirs  to  freedom  the  prisoned 
creature  bent  upon  escape. 

•  •  •  •  •' 

The  service  was  well  begun.  It  was  the  interval  of 
silent  prayer,  and  "  man,"  shutting  the  door  upon 
materiality,  sought  audience  with  the  divine  Principle 


THE     SEAMLESS    ROBE         301 

of  all  being,  God.  A  wonderful  calm  holds  dominion 
over  the  heart  which  acknowledges  only  the  power  of 
Mind  and  refuses  to  bow  before  a  lesser  king;  thus 
great  peace  prevailed  among  that  quiet  congregation. 
Some  measure  of  that  peace  indeed,  which  passeth 
understanding  but  which  comes  with  understanding, 
and  which  heralds  its  glorious  appearing  by  working 
the  works  of  God. 

Suddenly,  though  upon  the  surface  only  of  that  deep 
harmony,  there  appeared  a  wave  of  discord.  A 
stranger  stood  at  the  door — a  "  wayfaring  man," 
battle-stained  and  travel-worn.  He  sought  sanctuary 
in  their  midst  and  healing  for  his  wounds.  In  tones 
rendered  harsh  by  the  pain  that  moved  his  utterance, 
he  voiced  his  cry  for  help. 

"Lady  Cecil  Gwynne!" 

Cecil  Gwynne  rose  quietly  and  left  her  seat,  as  Rob- 
ert Saul  strode  through  the  silent  throng  and  placed 
the  child  he  carried  in  her  arms. 

"  Malcolm,"  he  said ;  "  Malcolm  .  .  .  dying !  " 
And  his  tired  eyes  sought  hers  and  asked  the  question 
that  his  quivering  lips  refused  to  frame. 

"  It  is  the  ever-present  healing  Christ,"  she  answered 
softly,  "  who  said,  *  I  am  the  resurrection,  and  the 
life;  he  that  believeth  in  me,  though  he  were  dead, 
yet  shall  he  live.'" 


THE    QUESTION 

What  is  truth? 

— Pilate. 

"  I  HAVE  come,  Cecil,"  Bishop  Saul  spoke  gravely 
and  with  evident  effort,  "  to  thank  you.  Malcolm's 
health  appears  to  be  perfectly  restored." 

"  He  will  grow  even  stronger  every  day,"  Lady 
Cecil  Gwynne  replied ;  "  the  child  has  gained  a  won- 
derful understanding  of  the  Truth  in  a  short  time." 

Bishop  Saul  rose  from  his  chair  and  walked  uneasily 
about  the  room.  It  was  long  since  he  and  Cecil 
Gwynne  had  talked  alone  together  in  this  room,  and 
his  thoughts  were  in  a  turmoil. 

"  I  met  an  old  College  friend  the  day  I  took  Mal- 
colm to  school,"  he  said ;  "  James  Campbell  was  at 
New  College  with  me,  and  it  turns  out  that  you  know 
both  him  and  his  young  brother  Robby,  of  whom  you 
must  have  often  heard  Malcolm  speak,  for,  when  he 
came  home  from  India,  it  was  Robby  Campbell  whom 
I  asked  to  shepherd  him  during  his  first  term." 

The  Bishop  paused,  and  Cecil  Gwynne  wondered 
a  little  what  bearing  this  apparently  irrelevant  infor- 
mation could  have  upon  the  subject  of  their  discussion, 
when  he  continued,  "  I  was  surprised  to  find  that  James 
Campbell  has  become  a  Christian  Scientist ;  indeed  it 
appears  that  he  and  Robby  were  deeply  interested  in 
it  before  the  two  little  boys  first  met," 

309 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         303 

"  Why   surprised  ?  "   Cecil  asked   gently. 

Bishop  Saul  laughed  a  little  awkwardly  and  spoke 
with  some  hesitation.  "  Well,  the  fact  is,  Campbell 
is  a  clever  fellow  and  a  long-headed,  cautious  Scotch- 
man to  boot, — — " 

"  Therefore  unlikely  to  be  led  away  by  foolish  fancies 
you  would  say,"  and  Cecil  smiled. 

"  No,  I  cannot  any  longer  regard  Christian  Science 
as  a  fad,"  the  Bishop  replied  gravely ;  "  I  am  too  grate- 
ful for  what  it  has  given  me  not  to  make  a  just  acknowl- 
edgment of  the  benefits  received  from  it,  but  I  am  still 
full  of  doubt.  To  tell  the  truth,  I  am  even  more  im- 
pressed by  the  change  in  Malcolm's  disposition  than  by 
his  wonderful  restoration  to  health.  I  always  loved 
the  boy,  but  he  was  full  of  faults.  He  is  far  from  per- 
fect yet,"  and  Robert  Saul  smiled  as  he  remembered 
a  certain  boyish  escapade  of  recent  date  which  might 
have  led  to  serious  consequences,  had  riot  Malcolm  owned 
up  and  faced  the  fire  like  a  man :  "  but  he  is  much  less 
egotistical  and  more  loving  than  he  used  to  be."  He 
paused ;  then  added  abruptly,  "  I  do  not  understand 
how  the  healing  is  done ;  I  do  not,  I  repeat,"  and  his 
face  softened  as  he  spoke,  "  attempt  to  deny  that  it  is 
done.  Malcolm  is  a  new  creature,  body  and  mind." 

Cecil  Gwynne  opened  a  little  book  which  lay  close 
at  hand  and  slowly  turned  the  leaves  until  she  found 
the  page  she  sought.  "  This  book  teaches  how  the 
healing  is  done,"  she  answered.  "  *  Science  and  Health 
with  Key  to  the  Scriptures '  *  is  our  text  book,  and  we 
study  it  daily ;  indeed  it  is  not  possible  to  really  under- 
stand Christian  Science  without  doing  so."  She  closed 
the  book  and  added ;  "  The  sick  are  healed  in  Christian 
*  By  Mary  Baker  G.  Eddy. 


304.         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

Science  by  the  application  of  the  law  of  Spirit;  w« 
regard  God  as  the  perfect  Creator,  Organiser  and 
Governor  of  man  and  the  universe.  As  surely  as  the 
patient  comes  into  conscious  sympathy  with  the  law 
of  Spirit — Life,  Love  and  Truth — and  remains  sym- 
pathetically under  its  protection,  so  surely  is  he  healed 
of  his  sickness." 

Bishop  Saul  did  not  immediately  reply,  and  when 
he  did  he  spoke  more  quietly  than  before ;  "  I  myself," 
he  said,  "  have  been  more  aware  of  a  wonderful  calm 
which  seemed  to  rule  my  mind  of  late  than  of  the 
physical  healing,  but  I  too  am  perfectly  well  now. 
Still  there  is  much  that  I  cannot  accept,  much  that 
antagonises  me,  in  Christian  Science;  and  I  hate  your 
text  book,"  he  spoke  less  quietly  now,  "  I  cannot  read 
it,  I  wish  that  it  had  been  written  by  a  man." 

Lady  Cecil  smiled.  "  I  have  met  others,"  she  said, 
"  who  felt  the  same  at  first,  having  entirely  overlooked 
the  fact,  which  is  so  clearly  brought  out  in  the  Bibile, 
that  God  has  constantly  chosen  women  to  deliver  his 
message.  Have  you  ever  observed  amongst  others  this 
prophecy,"  and  Cecil  opened  a  Bible  and  read  aloud 
from  the  Revised  Version,  " '  The  Lord  giveth  the 
word ;  The  women  that  publish  the  tidings  are  a  great 
host '?  Wycliffe,  you  remember,  was  so  hated  in  his 
time  that  his  very  bones  were  unearthed  and  burnt, 
and  the  ashes  thrown  upon  a  stream,  in  order  that 
they  might  be  carried  off  and  for  ever  lost  in  the  sea. 
But  now  millions  bless  his  memory.  Luther,  too !  In- 
deed all  reformers,  who  stir  up  the  sleeping  thought, 
are  hated  by  the  majority  of  their  contemporaries. 
If  the  author  of  '  Science  and  Health '  had  lived  two 
hundred,  or  even  a  hundred  years  ago,  she  would  be 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         305 

viewed  by  the  twentieth  century  with  calmer  eyes,  and 
sensitive  human  nature  would  no  longer  take  offence, 
where  only  love  is  meted  out." 

Bishop  Saul  made  no  direct  answer  but  took  from 
his  pocket  a  newspaper  cutting  which  he  had  neatly 
removed  with  a  pair  of  scissors  from  the  columns  of 
a  "  London  daily." 

"  According  to  some,"  he  remarked,  as  he  handed 
the  cutting  to  his  companion,  "  Mrs.  Eddy  did  not 
write  *  Science  and  Health.'  In  fact  your  brother  tells 
me  that  she  claims  as  her  own  the  work  of  a  man  who, 
being  dead,  naturally  cannot  protest." 

"  Upon  the  other  hand  the  dead  man  cannot  inform 
the  world  that  he  did  not  write  the  book,"  Lady  Cecil 
replied  quietly,  "  whereas  Mrs.  Eddy  has,  long  ago, 
unquestionably  vindicated  her  copyright  in  a  court  of 
law  and  thus  legally  established  her  position  as  the  sole 
author  of  *  Science  and  Health.'  But  no  Christian 
Scientist  needs  any  such  proof  of  the  authenticity  of 
her  authorship,  because  they  understand  and  prove 
daily  that  out  of  evil  good  cannot  come.  This  false 
accusation  against  Mrs.  Eddy  is  no  new  thing,  but 
merely  an  old  story  raked  up  from  time  to  time  by 
those  who,  in  many  cases,  thus  do  themselves  less  than 
justice;  and  it  saddens  one  to  see  men  and  women, 
whom  one  knows  to  be  capable  of  much  good,  carried 
away  by  an  unreasoning  and  therefore  unreasonable 
emotion  born  of  the  heated  brain  and  material  senses. 
My  brother's  views  upon  this  matter,"  she  added,  "  are 
now  curiously  mixed.  He  does  not  attempt  to  deny 
that  Christian  Science  heals ;  also  he  admires  the  gen- 
eral character  and  citizenship  of  the  Christian  Scientist. 
He  necessarily  meets  a  certain  number,  now  that  this 


306         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

philosophy  is  penetrating  all  professions  and  classes  ; 
indeed,  he  tells  me  that  he  enjoys  discussing  matters 
of  general  importance  with  them,  because  he  finds  that 
their  mental  attitude  is  usually  large-minded,  calm 
and  thoughtful,  and  he  observes  that  they  are  excep- 
tionally alert  and  active.  His  objection  to  Christian 
Science  from  a  religious  point  of  view  is,  as  you  know, 
extreme;  yet  he  does  not,  like  you,  despise  the  text 
book.  On  the  contrary  I  have  heard  him  speak  to 
others  in  terms  of  admiration  of  its  diction,  though 
entirely  disagreeing  with  the  ethics  therein  set  forth." 

"  He  cannot  tolerate  Mrs.  Eddy."  Robert  Saul 
spoke  almost  passionately;  this  matter  always  stirred 
him  in  an  unaccountable  manner. 

Lady  Cecil  looked  grave  as  she  replied  :  "  And  yet 
he  knows  really  nothing  about  her." 

"He  believes  that  she  did  not  write  the  book  which 
she  poses  as  having  written,  and  that  is  quite  enough 
to  make  an  honourable  man  very  angry,"  Bishop  Saul 
answered  quickly. 

"  But  he  has  no  proof  to  offer  in  support  of 
his  conviction,"  Cecil  Gwynne  replied  gently,  "  where- 


"  I  don't  know  that  it  matters  much  to  me,  whether 
she  did  or  did  not  write  your  text  book,"  her  com- 
panion interrupted  ;  "  it  has  an  enormous  circulation 
and  she  undoubtedly  makes  a  fortune  from  the  sale." 

"  The  book  inevitably  circulates  rapidly  ;  it  is  im- 
pregnated with  life,"  Lady  Cecil  replied.  "  A  friend 
of  mine  wrote,"  she  said,  "  a  book  on  ancient  history, 
which  he  sells  at  two  guineas,  and  you  pay  sometimes 
thirty  shillings  for  the  biography  of  a  public  man, 
or  for  a  work  on  medical  science,  but  I  have  yet  to  learn 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         307 

that  the  sick  have  been  healed  of  hopeless  disease  by 
the  perusal  of  any  such  book.  If  there  lives  an  author 
who  does  not  secure  all  the  profit  he  can  from  the  sale 
of  his  books,  I  am  not  acquainted  with  him,  and  cer- 
tainly the  labourer  has  every  right  to  reap  the  harvest, 
which  his  or  her  individual  hand  has  sown.  Does 
not  the  Bible  teach,"  she  continued,  "  that  *  thou  shalt 
not  muzzle  the  mouth  of  the  ox  that  treadeth  out  the 
corn  '?  Does  not  Paul  say,  '  if  we  have  sown  unto  you 
spiritual  things,  is  it  a  great  thing  if  we  shall  reap 
your  carnal  things  '  ?  Moreover  did  not  God  give  Solo- 
mon riches  and  honour  above  all  the  kings  which  had 
been  before  him,  because  he  asked  of  Him  wisdom  and 
knowledge?  Does  not  the  Master  promise  that  he  who 
seeks  first  '  the  kingdom  '  shall  be  provided  with  all 
that  he  needs?  God's  law  is  one  of  abundant  good: 
He  knows  nothing  of  human  limitations  nor  of  poverty, 
both  of  which  are  surely  most  ungodlike  conditions. 
Why  does  a  critical  world  quarrel  with  a  woman,  whose 
life's  work  has,  by  the  grace  of  God,  resulted  in  the 
salvation  of  men  and  women  and  little  children  from 
hopeless  misery,  while  it  fawns  upon  the  multi-million- 
aire, nor  pauses  to  ask  whence  come  the  dollars  that 
build  up  this  charity  or  that?  Not  that  it  occurs  to 
me,"  she  continued,  "  to  ask  how  any  individual  ob- 
tains or  disposes  of  his  income,  for  a  personal  income 
is  the  private  property  of  the  man  to  whom  it  belongs 
and  is  his  to  dispose  of  as  he  pleases.  Why  does  the 
world  criticise  unfavourably  the  pecuniary  position  of 
an  American  lady,  whose  wealth  is  the  result  of  a  life- 
time of  broad  study,  deep  thought  and  careful  research, 
while  it  does  not  grudge  the  fee  that  often  runs  into 
three  figures,  nor  the  title  bestowed  on  the  celebrated 


308         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

surgeon  of  the  present  day?  The  successful  barrister, 
novelist,  manufacturer,  inventor,  artist,  philosopher, 
poet,  pass  upon  their  way  unchallenged  by  opprobrious 
interference ;  whether  rich  or  poor,  their  income  is 
regarded  as  their  own.  The  superficial  thought  of  the 
day  has  constituted  itself  its  brother's  judge  in  the 
case  of  Mrs.  Eddy,  but  it  certainly  does  not  maintain 
a  judicial  attitude  in  this  matter,  for  it  evinces  a  bias 
due  to  a  hasty  judgment,  which  is  in  its  turn  usually 
the  offspring  of  ignorance." 

They  talked  for  some  time  longer,  while  Lady  Cecil 
put  before  Bishop  Saul  certain  metaphysical  points 
which  he  admitted  he  had  overlooked.  He  did  not  at- 
tempt to  answer  them,  but  finally  rose,  with  some 
reluctance,  to  take  his  leave.  As  she  gave  him  her 
hand,  Cecil  Gwynne  smiled  and  said :  "  Do  you  not 
think  that  we  have  been  discussing  the  private  affairs 
of  Mary  Baker  Eddy  in  a  manner  in  which  you  certainly 
would  not  tolerate  her  discussion  of  your  own  ?  It  does 
not  apparently  occur  to  those  whose  natural  refine- 
ment keeps  them  from  mental  interference  with  the 
lives  of  other  well-known  men  and  women,  that  the 
same  courtesy  should  be  evinced  towards  an  American 
lady  whose  private  affairs  no  more  concern  them  than 
the  private  affairs  of  any  other  public  man  or  woman 
concern  you  or  me." 

Again,  Bishop  Saul  did  not  answer  his  hostess,  but 
bidding  her  good-bye  he  turned  his  steps  in  the  direc- 
tion of  Richmond.  He  felt  at  sea  and  longed  for  the 
comparative  quiet  of  the  Park,  in  which  to  dwell  upon 
his  recent  conversation  with  Cecil  Gwynne. 

In  reality  he  was  more  impressed  by  the  scientific 
aspect  of  the  matter  which  she  set  before  him,  than 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         309 

by  anything  else  that  she  had  said.  His  own  attitude 
was  one  of  frank  dislike  towards  the  author  of  "  Science 
and  Health," — a  dislike  which  he  deliberately  did  not 
analyse — but  upon  consideration  he  saw  that  the  atti- 
tude adopted  by  Lord  Brecon  and  others  who  thought 
with  him,  was  untenable:  as  Lady  Cecil  had  said,  the 
unerring  law  of  cause  and  effect  ruled  it  out  of  court. 
For  a  man  to  admit,  as  did  Brecon,  that  Christian 
Scientists  stand,  mentally  and  morally,  above  the  aver- 
age, and  that  their  text  book  is  not  only  worthy  of 
praise  but  bears  fruit  of  decided  value ;  for  that  same 
man  to  assert  that  the  hand  which  circulates  this  book 
and  which  has  in  addition  built  up  little  by  little  a 
huge  organisation  that  is  obviously  increasing  daily 
in  importance  and  weight,  is  soiled  by  an  act  of  delib- 
erate dishonesty ;  that  the  same  hand  which  gives  forth 
these  good  results  is  impelled  to  action  by  a  mercenary 
mind, — is  in  fact  to  admit  that  out  'of  evil  good  can 
come;  whereas  the  Bible  and  science  both  teach,  as 
Cecil  Gwynne  had  pointed  out,  that  like  produces 
like  and  not  its  opposite. 

Longing  to  know  more  of  the  power  which  gave 
him  back  his  almost  dead,  Robert  Saul  had  of  late 
sought  every  opportunity  to  discuss  Christian  Science, 
and  yet  he  plainly  saw  that  if  he  would  remain  at 
his  post  in  the  Church  of  England,  he  had  best  with- 
draw at  once  from  all  connection  with  this  subject. 
Where  might  not  this  search  lead  him?  He  almost 
trembled  as  he  thought  of  the  radical  change  which 
it  might  come  to  mean  in  his  successful  and  now  well- 
regulated  life. 

And  so  it  was  that  for  some  weeks  after  his  con- 
versation with  Lady  Cecil  Gwynne,  the  Bishop  stayed 


310         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

away  from  London,  but  he  grew  less  happy  every 
day ;  the  sweet  calm,  which  had  for  some  time  possessed 
him,  was  constantly  disturbed  by  a  mental  fermentation 
which  seemed  to  bring  unwelcomed  problems  to  the 
surface  of  his  mind. 

Malcolm  was  home  now  for  the  holidays  and  had 
begged  that  he  might  bring  his  friend  Robby  Camp- 
bell with  him;  and  Bishop  Saul,  rather  to  his  own 
surprise,  had  answered  readily  enough,  "  By  all 
means."  He  did  more;  he  wrote  to  James  Campbell 
and  asked  him  to  bring  his  young  brother  over  and 
himself  stay  a  few  days. 

During  these  summer  holidays  he  often  heard  the 
children  talk  in  a  way  so  strange  and  beautiful  that 
he  acquired  a  habit  of  being  as  much  with  them  as 
his  work  permitted.  Robby  Campbell  had  the  straight- 
est  way  of  facing  a  difficulty,  and  the  simplest,  that 
the  Bishop  had  yet  met  in  a  child  of  thirteen;  never- 
theless he  was  often  dismayed  at  the  line  of  thought 
which  Malcolm  was  rapidly  assimilating.  He  dared 
not  interfere,  however;  that  was  the  simple  truth. 
For  a  new  nature  seemed  to  be  unfolding  in  the  boy, 
who  daily  became  more  joyous  and  strong. 

Perhaps  it  was  because  Bishop  Saul  realised  that 
his  nephew  would  soon  reach  a  point  at  which  decisive 
action  for  or  against  this  new  religion  must  be  taken, 
that  he  decided  to  call  upon  Lady  Margaret  Courcy 
the  next  time  he  went  to  town. 

Cecil  Gwynne  had  not  made  the  smallest  effort  to 
influence  him  in  favour  of  Christian  Science,  when 
answering  his  enquiries  upon  the  subject,  though  it 
was  evidently  all  in  all  to  her.  Her  calm  attitude 
had  perhaps  piqued  him  a  little.  He  had  expected 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         311 

that  she  would  do  for  Christian  Science  that  which  she 
never  would  do  from  a  personal  motive.  He  found, 
however,  that  neither  she,  nor  any  of  her  new  friends, 
made  the  slightest  effort  to  win  converts.  They 
were,  it  would  appear,  very  sure  of  the  strength  of 
their  position,  and  deemed  it  neither  right  nor  wise 
to  proselytise  those  who  held  views  antagonistic  to 
their  own.  On  the  other  hand,  justice  compelled 
Bishop  Saul  to  admit  that  they  spared  neither  time 
nor  trouble  when  their  practical  aid  was  asked  for  in 
cases  of  sin  or  sickness ;  when  called  upon,  they  were 
always  ready  to  help  those  in  need. 

Thus  the  pendulum  swung  backwards  and  forwards, 
until  one  day  the  Bishop  decided  that  he  would  go  to 
town  upon  the  morrow  and  call  upon  Lady  Margaret 
Courcy ;  but  no  sooner  was  the  morrow  with  him  than 
pride  (though  he  did  not  so  designate'  the  prompting 
which  bade  him  remain  inactive)  urged  him  to  wait  a 
little  longer.  He  finally  decided  to  write  a  long  letter 
to  Cecil  Gwynne,  for  he  felt  that  he  could  not  let  the 
subject  rest. 

Then  one  day  an  incident  occurred  which  caused 
him  to  precipitate  events  in  spite  of  himself.  He 
met  Lady  Margaret  Courcy  while  walking  quietly 
through  the  streets  of  the  old  Cathedral  town.  She 
immediately  drew  up  her  ponies  and  gave  him  a  kindly 
greeting,  and  he  found  that  she  was  in  residence  at 
one  of  her  country  seats  not  ten  miles  from  the  Palace. 

They  chatted  for  some  time,  but  only  upon  matters 
of  local  interest,  and  when  he  finally  raised  his  hat, 
Lady  Margaret,  though  bidding  him  a  genial  farewell, 
did  not  ask  him  to  call  upon  her.  Of  course,  the 
omission  might  have  been  purely  accidental,  or  she 


312         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

might  have  considered  an  invitation  superfluous,  but 
the  Bishop  was  inclined  to  think  that  this  was  not  so, 
and  he  saw  that,  if  he  really  wished  to  go  further  in 
the  matter,  he  must  make  the  first  move.  The  dis- 
comfort which  he  had  experienced  during  his  last  inter- 
view with  Margaret  Courcy  in  town,  was  still  fresh  in 
his  memory,  and  he  was  now  not  unwilling  to  justify 
himself  in  the  eyes  of  one  whom  he  had  always  respected 
above  the  common. 

He  grew  every  day  more  perturbed  in  spirit,  and 
finally  realised  that  he  could  not  rest  until  he  had 
dived  to  the  heart  of  this  great  ethical  question,  for 
he  found  that  it  constantly  occupied  his  mind  to  the 
exclusion  of  many  weighty  duties. 

The  only  recreation  which  Bishop  Saul  allowed  him- 
self was  a  daily  country  walk  of  many  miles.  Wet  or 
fine,  he  rarely  failed  to  leave  the  Palace  grounds  shortly 
after  luncheon ;  and  one  day  he  found  that  he  had 
directed  his  steps  towards  Wortewood — the  small  coun- 
try house  which  belonged  to  Lady  Margaret  Courcy. 

He  found,  upon  enquiry,  that  she  was  at  home. 
While  he  awaited  her,  he  became  aware  of  a  sense  of 
rest  which  he  attributed  to  his  material  environment 
of  the  moment.  The  small  drawing-room  in  which 
he  stood  was  panelled  with  oak  and  the  dark  sur- 
round of  the  room  formed  a  rich  foil  to  a  great  china 
bowl  which  Lady  Margaret  had  evidently  filled  herself 
with  roses.  He  had  known  her  for  years,  and  knew 
her  lavish  way  of  gathering  flowers.  She  only  gath- 
ered them  because  she  loved  to  have  them  near  her, 
and  these  roses  she  had  picked  with  bud  and  branch- 
ing stalk,  just  as  they  grew,  and  now,  though  it  was 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         313 

late  summer,  they  scented  the  air  with  memories  of 
June. 

When  Lady  Margaret  Courcy  entered  the  room 
Bishop  Saul  thought,  as  he  had  often  thought  before, 
that  she  fitted  her  position  better  than  anyone  else 
whom  he  knew.  Always  dignified  and  always  calm, 
she  impressed  him  to-day  with  an  added  charm — a 
certain  gentle  kindness  to  which  he  could  give  no 
more  precise  name,  but  which  immediately  relieved  his 
own  slight  embarrassment  and  made  it  possible  for 
him  to  state  at  once  the  purpose  of  his  visit. 


CHAPTER    XXXVI 
THE  ANSWER 

I  report  as  a  man  may  of  God's  work — 
All's  love,  yet  all's  law. 

— Browning. 

BISHOP  SAUL  seated  himself  in  the  Venetian  chair 
which  his  hostess  indicated  and  with  his  usual  direct- 
ness said,  "  I  find  myself  very  much  perplexed  about 
my  little  ward,  Malcolm  Stuart.  He  has  been  healed 
by  Christian  Science,  and  I  myself  have  derived  much 
benefit  from  it,  but  there  are  many  points  which  I  do 
not  in  the  least  understand,  points  which  I  do  not 
therefore  feel  justified  in  allowing  Malcolm  to  accept; 
and  yet,  upon  my  word,  I  am  not  sure  that,  as  far  as 
the  boy  is  concerned,  it  is  not  already  too  late  to 
prevent  it.  Only  yesterday  I  heard  him  discussing  with 
Robby  Campbell,  a  young  Christian  Science  friend  of 
his,  that  tremendous  problem  which  has  defeated  the 
greatest  intellects  in  the  world — the  origin  and  ulti- 
mate of  man." 

Lady  Margaret  smiled ;  "  Do  you  not  remember  the 
Master's  words,  *  Verily  I  say  unto  you,  whosoever  shall 
not  receive  the  kingdom  of  God  as  a  little  child,  shall 
in  no  wise  enter  therein'?  I,  too,"  she  added,  "used 
to  marvel  at  the  insight  of  the  little  child  when  re- 
garding the  deep  things  of  God,  but  now  I  realise 

SH 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         315 

what  Paul  meant  by  his  words, 4  For  ye  see  your  calling, 
brethren,  how  that  not  many  wise  men  after  the  flesh, 
not  many  mighty,  not  many  noble,  are  called :  but  God 
hath  chosen  the  foolish  things  of  the  world  to  confound 
the  wise ;  and  God  hath  chosen  the  weak  things  of  the 
world  to  confound  the  things  which  are  mighty.'  You 
see,"  she  added,  "  the  spiritual  thought  of  the  little 
child  is  far  less  clouded  than  that  of  men  and  women 
who  have  eaten  freely  *  of  the  tree  of  the  knowledge 
of  good  and  evil.'  The  children  have  had  less  time 
in  which  to  dim  their  vision  by  thinking  themselves  to 
be  as  gods." 

"  I  cannot  accept  your  extraordinary  views  with 
regard  to  sin,  sickness  and  death.  I  see  these  things 
all  around  me."  The  Bishop  spoke  very  emphat- 
ically. 

"  Jesus  and  his  early  followers,  also  the  prophets, 
saw  them  all  around  them,  but  time  after  time  they 
proved  divine  Love  to  be  a  law  of  annihilation  to  them. 
The  law  of  divine  Love  is  the  law  of  natural  good, 
and  whenever  man  sympathetically  and  understandingly 
puts  himself  under  the  protection  of  this  law,  he  can 
prove  the  omnipresence  of  Good  and  the  consequent 
nothingness  of  suppositional  evil." 

"  Sickness  is  ordained  by  the  inscrutable  wisdom  of 
God;  we  have  no  right  to  say  that  it  is  an  evil." 

The  Bishop's  tone  was  final. 

"  Then  why,"  Lady  Margaret  asked  gently,  "  do 
you  ever  try  to  cure  it  ?  It  was  Jesus,  the  Way-shower, 
who  said,  *  I  came  down  from  heaven,  not  to  do  mine 
own  will,  but  the  will  of  Him  that  sent  me ' ;  and 
throughout  his  ministry  he  devoted  much  time  to  the 
healing  of  the  sick.  Can  you  tell  me  of  one  single 


316         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

instance  in  which  he,  the  great  Exemplar,  said  to  a 
sick  person,  '  This  sickness  is  good — it  is  of  God — 
and  you  must  bear  it  patiently  '  ?  You  know  that  the 
Gospels  do  not  contain  one  single  record  of  the  kind, 
while  in  Matthew,  where  we  read  that  Jesus  did  not 
heal,  we  are  also  told  the  reason,  namely,  the  unbelief 
of  the  people — *»He  did  not  many  mighty  works  there 
because  of  their  unbelief.'  Again,  if  sickness  is  God's 
work,  why  did  Jesus  command  his  students  to  cure  it — 
to  undo  God's  work?  He  never  would  have  taught 
his  followers  to  undo  that  which  God  had  done.  But 
these  are  his  words,  *  Heal  the  sick,  cleanse  the  lepers, 
raise  the  dead.'  " 

"  That  command  was  given  to  the  disciples  alone, 
and  was  enforced  for  a  limited  period  only." 

"  Your  statement  is  hardly  an  answer  to  my  ques- 
tion," Lady  Margaret  said  quietly ;  "  but  can  you  sup- 
port the  statement  which  you  have  just  made  by  one 
single  word  recorded  in  the  New  Testament?  " 

"  It  is  the  accepted  explanation  of  the  departure  of 
the  healing  power  from  the  Church — accepted  by  the 
Church  for  many  hundreds  of  years." 

"  Granted,"  Lady  Margaret  replied,  "  but  that  does 
not  constitute  it  a  part  of  God's  law,  that  law  which 
Jesus  said  was  Love.  Do  you  not  think  that  the 
human  mind  is  apt  to  furnish  a  Tnaw-made  explanation 
for  its  own  sins  of  omission?  Is  it  too  much,  for 
instance,  to  say  that  scholastic  theology,  failing  to 
work  those  works  of  which  the  great  Exemplar  spoke, 
seeks  to  use  God  as  a  peg  upon  which  to  hang  its 
own  sins  of  omission,  by  declaring  that  He  has  with- 
drawn from  man  the  promised  power  to  heal  the  sick 
through  prayer  alone?  It  thus  attempts  to  cast  the 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         317 

burden  of  man's  failure  upon  God,  accusing  Him  of 
all  sorts  of  inconsistencies,  of  which  omnipresent  Good, 
omnipotent  Love,  must  necessarily  be  incapable.  In 
Jeremiah  xxiii.  we  read,  *  The  prophet  that  hath  a 
dream,  let  him  tell  a  dream ;  and  he  that  hath  my  word, 
let  him  speak  my  word  faithfully.  What  is  the  chaff 
to  the  wheat?  saith  the  Lord.  .  .  .  And  as  for 
the  prophet,  and  the  priest,  and  the  people,  that  shall 
say,  The  burden  of  the  Lord,  I  will  even  punish  that 
man  and  his  house.  .  .  .  And  the  burden  of  the 
Lord  shall  ye  mention  no  more:  for  every  man's  word 
shall  be  his  burden ;  for  ye  have  perverted  the  words  of 
the  living  God,  of  the  Lord  of  hosts  our  God.' ' 

"  All  true  Christians  believe  quite  as  much  as  you 
do  in  the  efficacy  of  prayer;  Christian  Scientists  have 
not  a  monopoly  in  faith !  "  Bishop  Saul  spoke  a  little 
roughly,  stirred  beyond  his  wont. 

Lady  Margaret  smiled  gravely  as  she  answered: 
"  For  anyone  to  monopolise  the  free  gift  of  God  to 
man  would  of  course  be  an  illogical  impossibility ;  fur- 
thermore the  daily  prayer  of  the  Christian  Scientist  is 
that  '  the  Christ '  may  be  so  uplifted  as  to  draw  all 
men  to  him.  Undoubtedly,"  she  continued,  "  the  prayer 
of  true  faith  has  always  been  answered,  and  isolated 
instances  of  the  healing  of  the  sick  through  prayer  are 
upon  record,  but  it  has  remained  for  Christian  Science 
to  teach  mankind  that  fuller,  deeper  faith  which  is,  in 
a  measure,  the  understanding  of  man's  Principle — 
God.  Man  naturally  trusts  that  power  of  whom  he 
has  some  understanding,  and  whose  laws  he  finds  him- 
self able  to  comprehend,  more  than  he  trusts  a  distant 
deity  whom  theology  shrouds  in  impenetrable  mystery 
and  gloom.  We  attach  a  deeper  meaning  to  faith  than 


318         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

that  encompassed  by  the  word  '  belief  ' ;  we  regard  blind 
belief  as  dangerous,  and  seek  rather  to  obtain  the  un- 
derstanding of  God's  law.  If  the  faith,  of  which  you 
speak,  be  all  that  the  Christian  needs,  why  do  not 
the  promised  *  signs '  follow  in  answer  to  orthodox 
Christian  prayer?  Jesus  said,  '  These  signs  shall 
follow  them  that  believe;  In  my  name  shall  they  cast 
out  devils ;  they  shall  speak  with  new  tongues ;  they 
shall  take  up  serpents ;  and  if  they  drink  any  deadly 
thing,  it  shall  not  hurt  them ;  they  shall  lay  hands 
on  the  sick,  and  they  shall  recover.' ' 

"  God  answers  prayer  in  His  way,  not  in  ours,"  the 
Bishop  replied. 

"  Granted,  but  Jesus  made  no  reservation  when  giv- 
ing the  promise  that  *  these  signs  shall  follow  them 
that  believe.*  He  said  further,  *  All  things  whatsoever 
ye  shall  ask  in  prayer,  believing,  ye  shall  receive.'  In 
neither  promise  is  there  any  hint  of  reservation  nor  of 
limitation.  Now  we  know  that  many  Christians  have 
for  years  prayed  most  earnestly  for  health;  why,  if 
they  really  believe,  do  not  they  obtain  the  promised 
answer  to  their  prayer?  At  any  rate,"  and  Lady 
Margaret  smiled,  "  it  is  surely  a  little  unreasonable 
to  quarrel  with  those  who  do  receive  the  answer;  it 
is  surely  a  little  illogical  to  declare  that  those  who 
are  able  to — and  constantly  do — prove  their  faith  by 
their  works,  are  more  at  fault  than  are  those  who  do 
not.  James,  you  remember,  said,  *  Even  so  faith,  if  it 
hath  not  works,  is  dead,  being  alone.  Yea,  a  man  may 
say,  Thou  hast  faith,  and  I  have  works :  show  me  thy 
faith  without  thy  works,  and  I  will  show  thee  my  faith 
by  my  works.'  He  also  said,  *  The  prayer  of  faith 
shall  save  the  sick,  and  the  Lord  shall  raise  him  up.' ' 


THE    SEAMLESS    ROBE         319 

Once  more  the  Bishop  made  no  direct  answer,  but 
challenged  his  companion  upon  another  point. 

"  Your  views  about  death  are  extraordinary ;  I  had 
almost  said,  absurd." 

"  They  are  the  views  of  the  true  monotheist,"  Lady 
Margaret  replied.  "  We  believe  that  God  is  Life,  and 
that  all  causation,  all  constitution,  all  government  are 
embraced  within  His  infinitude.  We  learn  from  both 
the  Old  and  New  Testaments  that  like  produces  like, 
and  never  its  opposite.  Hence  Infinite  Life  cannot  pro- 
duce death,  nor  can  Infinite  Good  produce  evil.  The 
teaching  of  the  Bible  is  surely  particularly  clear  upon 
this  point.  *  The  wages  of  sin,'  we  read,  '  is  death  ' ; 
then  why  sin  and  thus  earn  its  wage,  death?  Again, 
'  when  lust  hath  conceived,  it  bringeth  forth  sin :  and 
sin,  when  it  is  finished,  bringeth  forth  death.'  Now 
could  God,  who,  you  will  admit,  is  all  Good,  produce 
sin — the  cause  of  death — and  yet  remain  entirely 
good?  " 

"  Of  course  not,"  the  Bishop  answered  hastily ;  "  God 
did  not  create  eyil;  He  permits  it." 

"  How  many  creators  are  there  ?  "  Lady  Margaret 
asked. 

"  One,"  the  Bishop  answered  unhesitatingly,  and  a 
little  impatiently. 

"  Then,  if  there  is  but  one  Creator,  and  He  did 
not  create  evil,  who  did  ?  "  asked  Lady  Margaret. 

"  You  are  asking  a  question  which  no  one  in  the 
world  can  answer,"  the  Bishop  said. 

"  I  am  asking  a  question  which  the  Bible  has  always 
answered,  and  which  Jesus  himself  answered.  When 
speaking  of  evil  he  said,  *  Pie  was  a  murderer  from  the 
beginning,  and  abode  not  in  the  truth,  because  there 


320         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

is  no  truth  in  him.  When  he  speaketh  a  lie,  he  speak- 
eth  of  his  own,  for  he  is  a  liar,  and  the  father  of  it.'  " 

"  You  mean  to  imply,  that  all  that  there  is  of  evil 
is  a  He?  " 

"  Exactly ;  for  God,  Good,  did  not  create  it,  and 
there  is  but  the  one  Creator,  of  whom  we  read  that  he 
does  not  even  know  evil.  Naturally,  Infinite  Good  can- 
not have  any  knowledge  of  evil,  or  he  would  immediately 
cease  to  be  entirely  Good." 

"  And  death,  for  instance,  you  regard  as  an  evil, 
and  therefore  born  only  of  a  lie?  Yet  it  is  a  grim 
reality.  I  have  seen  it  often;  so  probably  have  you." 

"  The  storm  was  a  grim  reality,  portending  death, 
to  the  frightened  senses  of  the  disciples,  but  the  law  of 
Harmony,  of  Spirit,  Life,  set  the  suppositional  laws 
of  matter  at  naught  and  calmed  the  waves.  No  doubt 
death  appeared  as  a  grim  reality  to  the  senses  of  those 
who  wept  over  the  death  of  J  aims'  daughter;  for  you 
remember  that  when  Jesus  said,  '  She  is  not  dead,  but 
sleepeth,'  that  '  they  laughed  him  to  scorn,  knowing 
that  she  was  dead.'  Yet  Jesus  immediately  reversed 
the  seeming  law  of  death  by  placing  the  maid  under 
the  protection  of  the  law  of  Life — the  law  of  God, 
Good.  He  further  plainly  stated  that,  *  whosoever 
liveth  and  believeth  in  me  shall  never  see  death.'  If 
death  is  a  reality,  whence  came  it?  From  what  was 
it  evolved?  It  could  not  have  germinated  within  the 
mind  of  Infinite  Life  and  Love,  which  you  admit  to  be 
the  one  and  only  Creator." 

"  Of  course  God  is  not  the  Creator  of  death  but, 
as  I  said  before,  He  permits  it." 

"  But  He  is  not  Infinite  Good,  if  He  even  knows 
evil.  He  is  not  Infinite  Life,  if  there  be  in  reality 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         321 

any  death.  Would  you  hold  yourself  guiltless,  if  you 
permitted  a  wrong,  being  the  while  Omnipotent?  For 
remember,  the  God  whom  you  profess  to  worship  is 
All  Mighty." 

"  We  cannot  understand  these  things  here ;  we  must 
have  faith  and  believe  that  God  will  unfold  them  to 
us  in  the  fulness  of  time,"  the  Bishop  spoke  a  little 
wearily. 

"  But  surely  it  is  time  that  we  should  seek  some  solu- 
tion of  the  problem  which  has  baffled  us  for  so  long. 
What  is  man,  to  say  that  life  must  end?  What  are 
these  '  imaginations,'  that  seek  to  exalt  themselves 
against  the  power  of  the  Most  High?  Is  not  man  the 
image  and  the  likeness  of  his  God,  and  do  we  not  read 
that,  '  whatsoever  God  doeth,  it  shall  be  forever :  noth- 
ing can  be  put  to  it,  nor  anything  taken  from  it '  ?  " 

"  Still,"  the  Bishop  persisted,  "  people  die." 

"  Yes,  because  they  believe  they  must ;  for  remember, 
'  as  a  man  thinketh  in  his  heart,  so  is  he.'  The  world 
is  fast  asleep.  Mesmerised  by  that  false  phantom 
Fear,  it  dreams  the  dream  of  death.  It  knows  not 
friend  from  foe.  Whence  came  the  life  of  man  if  not 
from  God?  Yet  here  lies  the  world,  fast-locked  within 
the  craven  arms  of  Fear,  softly  blaspheming  in  the 
name  of  *  resignation ' !  How  can  life,  which  is  of 
God,  resign  itself  to  death,  God's  opposite?  How 
dare  man  hail  death  a  friend,  when  God,  his  Father 
and  his  King,  is  Life?  Yes,  the  mortal  dies,  forgetting 
that  through  the  gates  of  hell  man  will  never  enter 
heaven.  He  bends  the  knee  to  death,  forgetting  that 
thus  he  denies  not  only  the  God  who  gave  man  birth 
but  also  the  Saviour  who  triumphed  over  death,  in 
order  to  show  the  world  its  nothingness." 


322         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

"Do  you  not  expect  to  die?"  The  Bishop  asked 
the  question  amazedly. 

"  I — ,"  Lady  Margaret's  tone  was  grave  and  humble 
as  she  answered,  "  I  am  but  just  rousing  from  the 
Adam-sleep  to  heed  the  cry  which  has  resounded 
throughout  the  ages : — '  Why  will  ye  die,  O  house  of 
Israel?  For  I  have  no  pleasure  in  the  death  of  him 
that  dieth,  saith  the  Lord  God:  wherefore  turn  your- 
selves, and  live  ye.' ' 

"  Christian  Scientists  die,  and  will,"  Robert  Saul 
interrupted  again  a  little  roughly. 

"  To  say  that  we  of  this  generation  will  not  die 
would  be  to  assert  that  which  we  have  not  yet  proved, 
but  every  time  that  a  case  of  sickness,  regarded  as 
hopeless  by  materia  medica,  is  cured  by  Christian 
Science,  death  has  been  successfully  fought.  Because 
the  young  student,  who  works  out  a  sum  in  simple 
addition  correctly,  fails  when  trying  to  work  out  a 
more  difficult  problem,  you  do  not  question  the  principle 
of  mathematics,  but  rather  tell  the  student  to  try 
again,  and  work  more  carefully.  Because  the  Christian 
Scientist,  temporarily  overwhelmed  by  the  false  beliefs 
of  the  ages  and  by  the  unbelief  of  millions  of  human 
minds,  fails  in  a  degree,  that  does  not  prove  man's 
Principle  to  be  at  fault.  Nor  can  anything  make  the 
opposite  of  God,  Good,  righteous.  In  Science  we  face 
death  as  an  evil  and  as  an  enemy  and  know  that,  in 
time,  it  must  be  overcome.  For  he  who  is  armoured 
in  light,  must  eventually  triumph  over  darkness  and 
delusion." 

After  a  short  silence,  Lady  Margaret  continued, 
"Why  did  Jesus,  the  great  Exemplar,  so  joyously 
break  bread  upon  the  Galilean  shore,  after  the  resur- 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         323 

rection?  A  deep  purpose  lay  beneath  all  that  Jesus 
did,  and  Christian  Scientists  believe  that  he  celebrated, 
upon  the  shore  of  Galilee,  the  most  stupendous  victory 
that  the  world  has  ever  seen — the  victory  of  Life,  eter- 
nally triumphant  over  death ;  the  victory  of  Love,  great 
vanquisher  of  a  world's  mean  hate;  the  victory  of 
Truth,  total  exterminator  of  the  lie." 

Though  the  Bishop  did  not  say  so,  he  was  impressed 
by  the  view  which  Lady  Margaret  now  put  before  him, 
and  it  was  a  fact  that  he  had  never  before  considered 
what  might  have  been  the  purpose  underlying  that  early 
morning  meal.  It  was  undoubtedly  true  that  his 
thought  had  hitherto  halted  at  the  manifestation  of 
the  resurrected  Lord  and  had  then  been  apt  to  leap 
from  that  to  the  Ascension,  and  the  incident  to  which 
Margaret  Courcy  now  referred,  though  of  course  very 
familiar  to  him,  had  not  hitherto  assumed  any  great 
importance  in  his  eyes.  Now,  it  suddenly  stood  out 
with  a  new-born  emphasis  and  held  his  attention  as 
it  never  had  done  before. 

They  talked  for  some  time  longer,  and  he  was  fur- 
ther impressed  by  the  justice  of  Lady  Margaret's  calm 
attitude  towards  the  Leader  of  Christian  Science.  She 
assured  him  that  it  was  thus  that  all  true  Christian 
Scientists  regarded  Mrs.  Eddy,  in  spite  of  the  mistaken 
statements  to  the  contrary  which  were  so  commonly 
circulated  by  those  who  were  obviously  antagonistic. 
It  was,  he  saw,  not  only  natural  but  inevitable  that 
those  whose  whole  lives  had  been  revolutionised  and 
made  happy  by  the  application  of  Christian  Science, 
should  feel  deeply  grateful  to  the  writer  of  their  text 
book;  and  it  was  unquestionably  a  sound  judgment 
which  had  so  successfully  organised  a  Society  of  such 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

magnitude  and  regenerative  power — an  organisation 
which  had,  moreover,  an  undoubted  claim  to  be  re- 
garded as  dignified  in  the  method  and  presentation  of 
its  work,  and  which  proved  by  the  calmness  and  rapid- 
ity of  its  growth  and  the  intellectual  quality  of  its 
component  parts,  that  it  stood  beyond  the  reach  of 
angry  criticism  or  ignorant  abuse.  Robert  Saul  also 
recognised,  though  with  a  curious  reluctance,  that  the 
thought  which  forwarded  a  work  of  so  much  grace  must 
proceed  from  a  heart  both  loving  and  pure.  He  would 
not  admit,  even  to  himself,  that  his  views  with  regard 
to  Christian  Science  were  in  danger  of  reversal,  but,  in 
spite  of  himself,  he  saw  the  reasonableness  of  Lady 
Margaret's  final  remarks. 

"  We  regard  Mrs.  Eddy,"  she  said,  "  much  I  sup- 
pose as  the  more  grateful  among  the  Israelites  regarded 
Moses.  The  wise  man  of  the  twentieth  century,"  she 
added,  "  stands  always  ready  with  a  really  open  mind 
to  learn  from  his  brother  of  the  past,  and  while  seeking 
to  emulate  all  that  is  good,  he  is,  upon  the  other  hand, 
careful  to  glean  a  useful  warning  from  that  brother's 
mistakes.  These  mistakes  are  too  often  repeated  by  the 
mortal  of  to-day ;  for  the  condition  of  mind  which 
stoned  the  '  man  of  God '  thousands  of  years  ago  and 
later  gave  the  early  Christian  to  the  lions,  now  cries 
*  Down  with  him  '  to  the  mob  of  to-day,  while  pointing 
the  finger  of  scorn  at  all — whether  religious,  political 
or  domestic — who  seek  to  uphold  a  high  ideal,  for 
mortal  man  does  not  wish  to  take  up  his  cross  nor  to 
climb  the  hill  to  Calvary.  But,"  she  added,  "  the  fury 
of  the  mortal  can  do  the  standard  bearers  of  Truth  no 
harm,  for  to-day,  as  always,  it  rests  secure  in  Mind, 
serene,  invulnerable,  far  above  the  reach  of  ignorance 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         325 

and  hate:  while  Love  triumphant  reigns,  stately  and 
calm,  above  the  bubbles  of  the  human  mind,  which, 
rising  to  the  surface,  have  their  little  day,  but,  off- 
spring of  material  thought,  they  burst  even  as  they 
rise  upon  the  ever-changing  bosom  of  an  angry  sea, 
thus  losing  all  identity." 

As  Robert  Saul  walked  home  through  the  early 
evening  hours,  the  lovely  English  country  took  on  an 
aspect  of  unwonted  substantiality,  and  he  asked  him- 
self, quite  suddenly,  what  if  this  beautiful  theory  should 
be  true?  what  if  death  should  be  but  a  phenomenon 
of  human  experience?  what  if  the  great  oaks  under 
which  he  walked,  and  the  wild  fern  about  his  feet,  were 
but  the  counterfeit  of  the  real?  Glancing  away  to  the 
left,  his  eye  was  arrested  by  a  tree,  blasted  and  black- 
ened by  the  electricity  which  had  changed  it  from  a 
thing  of  strength  and  beauty  into  an  unsightly  and 
useless  item.  Regarding  it  as  it  marred  the  landscape 
across  which  he  gazed,  Bishop  Saul  said  to  himself 
that  assuredly  life  was  a  more  beautiful  thing  than 
death — a  grander  and  more  Godlike  expression  of  the 
Infinite.  Was  it  possible  that  a  tremendous  problem 
had  been  solved?  Was  it  possible  that  death  could  be 
relegated  to  the  position  of  a  mere  negation  by  the 
realisation  of  the  allness  of  Good,  Life,  and  the  conse- 
quent understanding  of  the  absence  of  evil?  He  saw 
then,  logically,  that  if  God  were,  as  Christian  Scien- 
tists believed,  Life  and  All-in-All,  He  must  necessarily 
be  the  Infinite  "  Affirmation."  This  being  so,  death 
could  have  no  real  existence  and  must  be  regarded 
merely  as  absence  of  Life.  As  his  quickened  thought 
pursued  this  new  train  of  reasoning,  the  Bishop  in- 
stantly realised  that  hitherto  he  had  attributed  to 


326         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

death  an  importance  which  no  logic  would  support. 
What  was  death,  after  all,  except  unconsciousness  of 
life?  Then  it  would  necessarily  follow  that,  to  avoid 
death,  man  needs  only  to  become  continuously  conscious 
of  life.  These  people  regarded  God  as  Life,  hence  their 
continuous  endeavour  to  cleave  in  thought  to  God. 
Should  any  individual  succeed  in  so  doing  and  thus 
enter  into  conscious  and  unbroken  communion  with 
Life,  it  would  logically  follow  that  he  could  never 
know  death,  for  it  is  not  a  mental  possibility  to  be 
fully  conscious  of  two  opposites  at  the  same  instant. 
Thus  far  Bishop  Saul  could  follow  the  argument, 
but  no  further,  for  he  did  not  believe  that  man,  as 
he  knew  him,  could  ever  attain  to  any  such  perfect 
state  of  consciousness,  and  so  he  once  again  sought 
to  put  the  whole  matter  from  his  mind,  and  entered, 
more  vigorously  than  before,  into  the  task  of  reor- 
ganising the  interior  economy  of  his  diocese.  Yet 
certain  startling  figures  which  Lady  Margaret  Courcy 
had  quoted,  just  as  he  left  her  house,  constantly  re- 
curred to  his  mind.  If  it  were  indeed  true,  as  she 
stated,  that  among  that  enormous  membership  of  many 
thousands  belonging  to  the  Mother  Church  of  her 
denomination  in  Boston,  the  percentage  of  deaths  was 
so  incomparably  smaller  than  the  percentage  which 
took  place  under  materia  medica  in  the  city  of  Bos- 
ton, she  would  appear  to  be  right  in  her  assertion  that 
longevity  was  undoubtedly  upon  the  increase  and  that, 
in  a  degree,  death  was  being  overcome  by  the  light  of 
Christian  Science.  Further,  he  knew  enough  of  Chris- 
tian Scientists — he  had  met  many  while  in  London — 
to  recognise  that  the  membership  of  all  Christian 
Science  Churches  is  composed,  in  a  great  measure,  of 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         327 

people  whom  no  insurance  company  would  have  ac- 
cepted, when  they  first  handed  over  their  cases  to  the 
Christian  Science  practitioner.  He  knew  therefore 
that  this  was  the  stock  from  among  which  those  remark- 
able statistics  had  been  taken.  But  Bishop  Saul  did 
not  want  to  be  convinced  of  the  substantiality  of  Chris- 
tian Science,  and  so  he  deliberately  turned  from  the 
subject  and  focussed  his  thought  upon  other  matters; 
nor  would  he  admit,  even  to  his  own  heart,  that  his 
mental  attitude  was  one  of  greater  uncertainty  than 
before  his  long  conversation  with  Lady  Margaret 
Courcy. 


Choose  you  this  day  whom  ye  will  serve. 

— Joshua. 

THE  period  which  immediately  followed  upon  his  long 
talk  with  Lady  Margaret  Courcy  was,  to  Bishop  Saul, 
one  of  acute  discomfort.  He  felt  that  he  had  reached 
the  time  in  his  life  which  William  Shakespeare — that 
close  student  of  humanity — so  well  portrayed  when  he 
wrote : 

There  is  a  tide  in  the  affairs  of  men, 
Which,  taken  at  the  flood,  leads  on  to  fortune; 
Omitted,  all  the  voyage  of  their  life 
Is  bound  in  shallows,  and  in  miseries. 

But  what  he  did  not  clearly  understand  was  the 
magnitude  of  the  choice  which  lay  before  him.  Two 
roads  were  his  from  which  to  choose ;  that  he  did 
understand;  and  the  mortal  longed  to  follow  the  one 
which  quite  certainly  led  to  honour  and  renown.  But 
Robert  Saul  was  conscious  of  a  power  which  at  times 
threatened  entirely  to  overrule  this  worldly  desire,  by 
impelling  his  thought  in  an  opposite  direction.  What 
was  this  mighty  force  at  work  upon  his  soul?  He 
would  not  stop  to  ask,  but  sought  repeatedly  to  crush 
it,  declaring  that  he  would  not  be  controlled  against 
his  will,  and  by  a  power  which  had  come  unbidden 
into  his  life!  Thus  he  wooed  to  his  side  his  bitterest 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         329 

foe  and  trampled  under  foot  the  seed  which  held  for 
him  the  knowledge  of  eternal  Good. 

Next  Sunday  would  be  the  first  Sunday  in  Septem- 
ber, and  with  something  of  a  shock  Bishop  Saul  remem- 
bered that,  when  first  taking  over  the  duties  of  the 
diocese,  he  had  acquiesced  in  a  suggestion,  put  for- 
ward by  his  predecessor,  that  he  should  take  the  oppor- 
tunity in  the  early  autumn,  when  the  old  town  of 
Exminster  was  always  unusually  full,  to  preach  his 
second  sermon  upon  Christian  Science.  "  It  was  get- 
ting a  hold  in  the  neighbourhood,"  Bishop  Long  had 
explained,  "  and  needed  to  be  stamped  out,  before  it 
did  more  harm." 

So  the  Bishop  had  pledged  himself  to  preach  on  this 
subject  upon  the  first  Sunday  in  September,  and  now 
the  day  was  almost  upon  him.  There  was  no  escape, 
and  he  wanted  none.  Indeed,  he  declared  again,  as  he 
had  declared  once  before,  that  he  was  very  ready  to 
do  his  plain  duty  in  this  matter.  Undoubtedly  Chris- 
tian Science  had  saved  Malcolm's  life,  and  he  was  not 
ungrateful,  but  obviously  he,  as  a  conspicuous  repre- 
sentative of  the  established  Church,  could  not  tacitly 
encourage,  by  leaving  it  unmolested  in  his  diocese,  a 
doctrine  so  unorthodox  as  was  this  new  religion  which, 
though  undoubtedly  founded  on  Truth,  had  branched 
into  a  conspicuous  heresy.  He  knew  that  Lady  Mar- 
garet Courcy  was  held  in  much  respect  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood, and  that,  amongst  others,  many  of  her  ten- 
ants were  already  deeply  interested  in  Christian  Science. 

The  early  part  of  the  week  passed  and  found  the 
Bishop's  sermon  still  unwritten.  Though  it  was  his 
custom  to  preach  extempore,  he  remembered — and 
flushed  uncomfortably  as  he  recalled  the  circumstance 


330         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

— that  his  previous  attempt  to  preach  upon  the  sub- 
ject of  Christian  Science  had  been  a  dismal  failure, 
even  though  he  had  taken  the  unusual  precaution  to 
write  out  his  sermon  upon  that  occasion.  That  had 
been  his  one  failure,  and  it  rankled  in  a  mind  grown  a 
little  sleek  with  the  success  of  years.  This  time  he 
would  surpass  himself!  He  would,  indeed  he  must, 
admit  the  healing  power  of  Christian  Science;  he  had 
no  desire  to  do  otherwise,  but  he  would  point  out  to 
the  souls  entrusted  to  his  guidance  the  grave  danger 
which  threatened  those  who  left  the  Catholic  Church 
for  the  shelter  of  any  other  fold ;  and  he  would  sug- 
gest that  the  Church  of  England  should  set  its  house 
in  order  and  itself  heal  the  sick  by  prayer.  Why  not? 
If  these  people  could  recover  a  life  so  nearly  lost  as 
had  been  Malcolm's  by  the  power  of  prayer  alone,  why 
should  not  others  do  the  same?  Moreover,  was  the 
apostolic  succession  to  be  set  at  naught  by  these  non- 
conformists? Surely  those  who  were  spiritually  en- 
dowed— highly  educated  theologians,  men  thoroughly 
au  fait  with  the  early  history  of  the  Christian  Church 
— were  especially  qualified  to  approach  the  throne  of 
grace.  The  Church  must  of  course  emphatically  dis- 
sociate itself  from  Christian  Science  in  this  healing 
work.  It  must  be  clearly  understood  that  it  had  no 
connection  at  all  with  that  organisation,  but  why  should 
not  the  Catholic  Church  obtain  the  same  results  by 
better  and  more  orthodox  means? 

Why  not,  Bishop  Saul?  Why,  simply  because  like 
produces  like  and  never  its  opposite.  Thus  out  of  the 
mouth  of  Love  do  not  come  blessings  and  curses,  from 
the  same  fount  do  not  flow  "  sweet  waters  and  bitter," 
and  the  religion  which  bows  a  trembling  knee  before  a 


331 

man-made  God  of  good  and  evil — a  theoretical  God 
who,  alternating  between  wrath  and  love,  sometimes 
blesses  but  more  often  curses  his  children — cannot  work 
the  works  of  Him  who  is  entirely  good,  entirely  loving, 
nay  more,  who  is  Love. 

And  so  the  few  remaining  days  came  and  went. 
Many  acquaintances  had  ventured  to  say  to  the  Bishop 
that  they  were  looking  forward  with  special  interest 
to  his  sermon  upon  the  following  Sunday :  but  this 
was  Saturday,  and  the  sermon  was,  as  yet,  unshaped 
within  his  mind.  That  day  his  uncle  was  so  evidently 
worried  than  towards  evening  Malcolm,  whose  holidays 
were  now  nearly  over,  sat  gravely  down  upon  the 
side  of  his  bed  and  considered  the  matter. 

"  Why,"  the  boy  asked  himself,  "  was  not  Uncle 
Robert  a  Christian  Scientist?"  It  had  surprised  him 
greatly,  as  soon  as  he  himself  was  well  enough  to 
understand  what  had  saved  his  life,  that  his  uncle  did 
not  accept,  with  the  blessing,  the  doctrine  through 
which  that  blessing  had  come.  Now  he  plainly  saw 
that  "  Uncle  Robert "  was  very  much  troubled  about 
something,  and  though  he  quite  realised  that  the  Bishop 
did  not  like  Christian  Science,  he  had  no  idea  that  he 
contemplated  the  delivery  of  another  sermon  upon  the 
subject.  Malcolm  very  distinctly  remembered  that  he 
had  suffered  while  his  uncle  preached  that  sermon 
in  London,  and,  indeed,  looking  back,  he  saw  by  the 
aid  of  the  clearer  vision  which  now  was  his,  that  it  was 
that  very  sermon  which  had  first  made  the  subject  of 
Christian  Science  run  so  continually  through  his  own 
mind.  He  had  never  told  anyone  this ;  he  was  abso- 
lutely loyal  to  "  Uncle  Robert,"  but  he  definitely  dated 
certain  questions  which  had  troubled  him  all  through 


832         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

his  long  illness,  from  that  memorable  Sunday.  Now, 
he  sat  upon  his  bed  and  asked,  "  What  can  be  done 
to  make  Uncle  Robert  happy?  "  And  soon  he  took  the 
only  course  which  could  occur  to  his  awakened  thought, 
he  laid  his  trouble  before  the  God  whom  he  had 
lately  learnt  was  most  emphatically  "  a  God  at  hand  " 
and  "  a  very  present  help  in  trouble," — a  Father,  in 
fact,  into  whose  presence  a  little  child  might  walk  with- 
out fear  or  hesitation.  The  boy  made  no  long  prayer 
about  the  matter ;  it  was  all  quite  simple.  "  Uncle 
Robert "  seemed  to  be  unhappy,  but  God's  law  was  a 
law  of  Love,  of  happiness,  and  "  Uncle  Robert "  was 
God's  son,  it  was  therefore  his  divine  right  to  be  happy. 
It  only  needed  light,  it  only  needed  that  "  Uncle  Rob- 
ert "  should  see  the  Truth,  and  of  course  he,  Malcolm, 
would  ask  that  the  light  should  so  shine  upon  his 
uncle's  path  that  he  should  see  clearly  just  where  hap- 
piness was  waiting  for  him.  It  did  not  enter  the 
child's  head  that  anyone  could  deliberately  shut  their 
eyes  to,  and  turn  away  from,  the  thing  which  had 
already  so  cheered  their  life.  Thus  the  boy,  for  a 
short  space,  held  silent  commune  with  Mind,  and  then 
went  to  sleep  quite  happy  in  the  conviction  that  those 
who  "  ask  "  shall  most  surely  "  receive." 

That  evening  the  Bishop  rose  early  from  the  dinner 
table  and  went  to  his  library;  in  a  few  moments  a  ser- 
vant entered  with  the  last  post.  Only  one  letter  for 
his  Lordship,  but  one  for  which  he  had  looked  anxiously 
for  some  days.  It  was  from  Lady  Cecil  Gwynne  in 
answer  to  the  long  letter  which  he  had  written  to  her 
after  his  conversation  with  Margaret  Courcy.  He 
opened  it  eagerly  the  moment  his  servant  had  left  the 
room. 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         333 

"  I  did  not  hasten  to  reply  to  your  long  letter," 
Cecil  Gwynne  wrote,  "  because  I  hoped  that  you  would 
come  and  see  me.  You  know,  do  you  not,  that  Chris- 
tian Scientists  do  not  seek  converts,  still  I  am  tempted 
to  plead  with  you  for  once.  For  once  I  ask  you  to 
look  this  thing  fairly  in  the  face.  Of  you,  a  man  of 
my  own  race,  I  ask,  What  has  made  England  great? 
Is  it  not,  in  a  measure,  her  fairness  which,  by  endear- 
ing her  to  her  conquered  foe,  has  made  her  dominion 
widespread,  because  enduring,  enabling  her  rule  to 
settle  into  strength  where  other  nations  have  advanced 
only  to  retreat.  Of  you — once  a  public  school  boy — 
who,  bat  in  hand  or  foot  to  ball  or  again  with  body 
bent  forward  for  your  stroke,  learnt  during  those  dearly 
loved  days  of  your  English  boyhood  the  simple  lesson 
of  fair  play,  I  ask  neither  more  nor  less  but  that  you 
should  look  this  Science  fairly  in  the  face.  Do  not 
condemn  it  unheard,  simply  because  it  is  new  and  seem- 
ingly hard  to  understand.  Turn  it  here  and  turn  it 
there.  Search  it  to  the  core.  It  does  not  shun  enquiry. 
You  do  not  condemn  the  prisoner  at  the  bar  without 
a  fair  trial;  you  would  not  deliver  judgment  upon  any 
point  in  astronomy  without  first  really  studying  the 
matter;  you  do  not  discuss  politics  without  carefully 
reading  your  daily  papers.  Again,  you  did  not  at- 
tempt higher  mathematics  until  you  had  accepted  the 
principle  that  one  and  one  are  two,  and  then  gradually 
progressed  in  wisdom  and  in  knowledge  from  that  given 
point.  Can  you  not  accept  God,  Gojod,  as  Principle 
and  as  *  All-m-AU  '?  Can  you  not  work  out  the  prob- 
lem of  life  by  putting  yourself  under  the  protection  of 
the  law  of  Love.  If  you  will  but  try,  Robert,  this  law 
will  surely  lead  you  to  where  Freedom  reigns  supreme. 


334?         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

I  need  not  remind  you  that  nearly  two  thousand  years 
ago,  the  Prince  of  Peace,  the  great  Physician,  the  Mas- 
ter Metaphysician,  said ;  *  Lo,  I  am  with  you  alway, 
even  unto  the  end  of  the  world.'  *  If  ye  love  me,  keep 
my  commandments.'  *  I  ...  will  manifest  my- 
self unto  you.'  Robert,  will  you  not  *  come  and  see ' 
the  healing  Christ  at  work  to-day  ?  Will  you  not  come 
and  see  his  promise  in  process  of  fulfilment?  Will  you 
not  come  and  see  the  healing  Christ  made  manifest — 
the  lame  walking,  the  blind  with  sight  restored,  the  sick 
healed  ? 

"  You  know  already  that  you  will  be  asked  to  believe 
nothing  without  proof.  There  are  very  many  differing 
sects  of  Christianity,  but  Christian  Science  alone  is 
able  to  prove  its  faith  by  its  healing  works,  done  in 
obedience  to  the  divine  command.  Will  you  be  less 
fair  in  this  matter  than  in  a  game  of  cards?  Will  you 
not  *  prove  all  things;  hold  fast  that  which  is  good'? 
Perpetual  progress  is  the  eternal  law  of  Mind.  Can 
materialism  hope  to  reverse  that  which  has  been  since 
the  world  began,  even  the  law  of  Spirit?  Upon  every 
side  the  cry  goes  up  for  light ;  upon  every  side  we  see 
the  latest  invention  shelved  to  make  way  for  a  later 
yet.  Shall  man  alone  stagnate?  Surely,  Robert,  this 
thing  cannot  be?  Rather  shall  a  sinning,  suffering 
world  listen  to  the  words  of  that  great  Counsellor — 
the  holy  Nazarene — words  pregnant  with  a  world's 
salvation.  Penetrating  through  the  dust  of  ages  and 
with  tender  might  sweeping  away  the  false  god,  mate- 
rialism, his  words  point  ever  upward,  ever  onward, 
commanding  the  sleeper  to  awaken  and  to  start  now 
while  it  is  day,  upon  the  work  of  all  eternity, — even 
the  acquisition  of  the  knowledge  of  God,  Good.  '  For 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         335 

this  is  life  eternal,  to  know  thee  the  only  true  God, 
and  Jesus  Christ,  whom  thou  hast  sent.'  And  dare 
we  forget  that  '  now  is  the  accepted  time ;  behold,  now 
is  the  day  of  salvation?'  Late  in  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury Christian  Science  challenged  the  world  to  mortal 
combat.  How  has  that  challenge  been  answered?  By 
much  shouting  from  those  who,  in  many  cases,  have 
not  stopped  to  realise  that  mere  abuse  is  no  argument. 
But  still  the  healing  Christ  works  on,  pure,  serene, 
untroubled  by  the  storm  of  sensualism  and  sin :  and, 
wherever  it  goes,  Christian  Science  turns  the  thought 
of  man  from  darkness  to  the  Light,  from  sickness  to 
health,  and  lifts  it  away  from  the  things  of  earth  up 
into  the  realm  of  eternal  Mind.  Its  trail  is  marked 
by  happy  homes,  by  joyous  faces,  by  quiet  prosperity, 
by  an  abiding  love  of  Good.  Practice  "versus  theory, 
logical  simplicity  versus  illogical  confusion,  result  in 
harmony  and  health.  Do  not  misunderstand  the  atti- 
tude of  Christian  Science  with  regard  to  the  Christian 
Church.  It  acknowledges  its  indebtedness  to  the 
Church  for  having  nursed  the  Truth  for  nearly  two 
thousand  years,  but  it  may  no  longer  be  kept  in  swad- 
dling clothes.  The  time  has  come  when  man  must 
have  the  Christ  Truth,  in  all  its  manhood's  strength 
and  power  as  presented  over  nineteen  hundred  years 
ago  by  the  simple  Nazarene.  It  must  be  divested  of 
man-made  creeds  and  episcopalian  ceremony,  for  '  Ye 
cannot  serve  God  and  mammon.'  Every  form,  every 
ceremony,  every  stereotyped  prayer  are  just  so  many 
vain  *  imaginations,'  seated  in  the  place  of  God,  serving 
only  to  hide  the  spiritual  idea.  Jesus,  the  Way-shower, 
directed  us  with  grand  simplicity  to  use  just  one  all- 
inclusive  prayer.  He  gave  us  just  one  all-embracing 


336         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

commandment ;  *  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with 
all  thy  heart,  .  .  .  and  thy  neighbour  as  thyself.' 

"You  ask  me  of  the  'Trinity.'  First,  I  will  tell 
you  what  the  Trinity  is  not  to  the  Christian  Scientist. 
It  is  not  three  Persons  in  one  Person.  I  will  try  to 
tell  you  a  little  of  what  it  is  to  us.  A  spiritual  Real- 
ity, a  substantial  Actuality,  an  infinite  Unity  of  peace 
and  power,  a  perfect  and  eternal  Entity,  *  having1 
neither  beginning  of  days  nor  end  of  life,'  a  living 
Truth,  a  deathless  Love,  a  co-equal,  co-eternal,  forever- 
indivisible  Three-in-One  and  One-in-Three,  Life,  Truth 
and  Love — even  God,  Mind.  See !  you  cannot  take 
Love  from  Life,  for  who  would  have  life  bereft  of  love? 
You  cannot  take  Life  from  Love,  for  of  what  worth 
is  a  love  that  has  never  lived?  Naught  but  a  still- 
born thought  is  there.  You  cannot  take  Truth  from 
either,  or  you  reduce  that  which  is  all  to  a  mere  nega- 
tion." 

Bishop  Saul  read  Lady  Cecil  Gwynne's  letter 
through  twice,  then  he  rose  to  ring  the  bell  and  gave 
orders  to  the  servant  that  he  should  require  nothing 
more  that  night,  nor  must  he  on  any  account  be  dis- 
turbed. 


CHAPTER    XXXVIII 

PENIEL 

Thy  name  shall  be  called  no  more  Jacob,  but  Israel: 
for  as  a  prince  hast  thou  power  with  God  and  with  men, 
and  hast  prevailed. 

— Genesis. 

FOR  an  hour  or  more  Robert  Saul  sat  with  Cecil 
Gwynne's  letter  in  his  hand.  Again  and  again  the 
remarkable  definition  of  the  "  Trinity,"  which  she  had 
therein  placed  before  him,  seized  upon  his  thought  and, 
lifting  it,  hdd  it  to  a  point  to  which  it  never  had 
before  attained — an  altitude  so  high  indeed,  that  he 
declared  no  mortal  might  stand  upon  such  holy  ground 
and  live.  Rising  abruptly  from  his  seat,  he  went  to 
his  bureau  and  unlocked  a  drawer  from  which  he  with- 
drew a  little  book.  Resolved  to  carry  through  his 
resolution,  he  had  written  to  a  London  library  and 
from  there  had  borrowed  a  copy  of  the  Chistian  Science 
text  book,  but  so  far,  he  had  refrained  from  opening 
it.  Now,  however,  the  eleventh  hour  was  upon  him, 
and  his  sermon  must  be  ready  upon  the  morrow.  Seat- 
ing himself  in  front  of  his  desk,  he  wrote  steadily, 
picking  out  a  line  here  and  there  and  interpreting  it 
to  suit  his  own  determination.  To  a  certain  extent, 
perhaps,  he  did  this  unconsciously,  but  not  altogether 
so;  and  he  knew  quite  well  that  he  was  not  acting  as 
he  would  have  wished  a  brother  to  act  towards  him. 

337 


338         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

He  knew  very  well  that  no  book  can  be  fairly  reviewed 
by  a  mind  already  made  up  against  it.  At  last  his 
sermon  was  finished  and  he  was  perfectly  aware  that 
it  amounted  to  neither  less  nor  more  than  an  antago- 
nistic criticism  of  the  Christian  Science  text  book. 
Bishop  Saul  knew  that  the  gist  of  a  book  cannot  be 
fairly  set  before  a  body  of  people  by  the  isolation  of 
•short  passages  disconnected  from  their  context.  But 
he  intended  to  preach  upon  this  subject  before  twelve 
hours  should  pass,  and  he  was  upon  the  whole  satisfied 
with  the  sermon  which  he  had  written.  It  was,  he  con- 
cluded, cleverly  written  and  much  more  even  in  tone 
than  that  first  sermon  which  he  had  preached  upon 
Christian  Science.  He  did  not,  however,  admit,  even 
to  his  own  mind,  that  this  was  a  less  honest  utterance 
than  the  former,  and  that,  while  writing  it,  he  had  been 
obliged  to  send  away  unanswered — because  he  would 
not  pause  to  answer  them — certain  questions  which  had 
persistently  presented  themselves  to  him  while  he  wrote. 

It  was  late  now,  and  he  suddenly  felt  very  tired.  He 
arranged  his  sermon  neatly  in  its  soft  leather  cover 
and  tied  a  ribbon  which  thus  held  it  safe.  Opening 
a  drawer,  he  placed  it  within,  and  then  carefully  shut- 
ting and  locking  the  drawer  he  went  upstairs. 

Whenever  his  little  nephew  was  at  home,  it  was 
Bishop  Saul's  invariable  custom  to  turn  aside,  on  his 
way  to  his  own  bedroom  at  night,  to  enter  the  child's 
room.  Malcolm  always  slept  with  his  blind  up  and 
the  window  open,  and  the  cool  air  which  greeted  Rob- 
ert Saul  as  he  opened  the  door,  was  grateful  and 
refreshing. 

He  pressed  a  button  on  the  wall  and  thus  turned  up 
an  electric  light,  which  was  placed  behind  the  boy's 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         339 

bed.  He  himself  had  interviewed  the  workmen  about 
the  lighting  of  the  room,  and  had  ordered  this  par- 
ticular fitting  to  be  carefully  shaded  so  that  the  light 
should  not  inconvenience  Malcolm  when  asleep. 

He  now  bent  over  the  boy  and  breathed  a  soft  prayer 
of  thanksgiving  for  his  perfect  restoration  to  health. 
As  he  stood  watching  him,  Malcolm  threw  his  right 
arm  above  his  head  with  a  free  gesture,  and  Robert 
Saul  noted  the  rounded  curves  which  now  replaced  the 
sharp  lines  that  once  had  outlined  the  child's  face  and 
form.  Involuntarily,  he  compared  his  nightly  visits  of 
late  with  those  weary  pain-fraught  vigils  of  a  year  ago  ; 
and  again  he  breathed  the  words,  "  Thank  God." 

As  he  did  so,  the  boy  stirred  in  his  sleep.  Opening 
his  eyes  he  smiled  at  the  grave  face  bent  over  him, 
then  lifted  his  arm  and  flung  it  round  his  uncle's  neck. 
Robert  kissed  him  tenderly  and  arranged;  the  bed- 
clothes more  cosily  around  his  one  ewe  lamb,  bending 
low  as  he  did  so  in  order  that  he  might  not  lose  the 
full  sweetness  of  the  child's  soft  "  Good-night."  But 
instantly  he  lifted  his  head  and  stood  suddenly  up- 
right, for  what  had  the  clear  young  voice  said,  as  the 
boy  turned  happily  upon  his  side  and  slept  once  more. 

"  Thank  God  for  Christian  Science." 

Bishop  Saul's  face  was  stern  as  he  seated  himself 
in  the  high  armchair  which  he  often  occupied  while 
superintending  some  small  personal  matter  for  Mal- 
colm: and,  as  he  sat  there,  those  questions  which  had 
been  swimming  only  just  below  the  surface  of  his  de- 
liberate thought  all  the  evening,  once  more  presented 
themselves.  This  time  they  remained  with  him,  until 
he  turned  and  gave  them  full  reply.  His  face  showed 
signs  of  the  hot  argument  within  him.  For  a  long  time 


340         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

he  sat  there  in  a  rigid  silence,  and  when  finally  he  rose 
he  left  the  room  rather  noisily,  and  a  little  hurriedly. 
Forgetful,  for  once,  of  Malcolm's  comfort,  he  did  not 
turn  off  the  light,  and  the  child,  awakened  perhaps  by 
the  noise  of  his  uncle's  departure,  opened  his  eyes  in 
time  to  see  his  disturbed  face  clearly  reflected  in  a  mir- 
ror which  hung  upon  the  wall  opposite  to  his  bed.  Mal- 
colm, in  his  turn,  became  thoughtful  and  lay  long  awake 
though  with  his  eyes  closed. 

Presently  he  rose  from  his  bed,  and  went  to  the 
Bishop's  room.  "  Uncle  Robert  "  was  not  there,  and 
instantly  the  child  understood  that  old  habit  had  called 
the  man  forth  upon  one  of  those  midnight  rambles  in 
which  he  used  so  often  to  indulge.  Going  to  the  win- 
dow, he  discerned  the  Bishop's  tall  figure  as  he  walked 
slowly  across  the  lawn.  The  night  was  a  dark  one,  but 
a  bright  street  lamp  threw  a  path  of  light  across  the 
further  end  of  the  short  drive,  and  Malcolm  saw  his 
uncle  unlock  the  side  gate  and  carefully  relock  it  upon 
the  other  side:  he  watched  him  as  he  turned  in  the  di- 
rection of  the  open  country. 

Then  the  boy  went  back  to  his  room,  but  not  to  sleep ; 
there  was  work  to  do,  and  his  it  was  to  do  it.  Evi- 
dently "  Uncle  Robert "  needed  help,  and  of  course  the 
help  was  already  his.  To-night  Malcolm  had  his  own 
little  battle  to  fight.  In  after  years  he  looked  back 
upon  that  night,  and  it  then  appeared,  by  the  light  of 
greater  victories,  a  very  small  thing  that  he  had  done ; 
yet,  at  the  time,  the  battle  seemed  a  fierce  one,  and  the 
soldier  young  to  carry  all  before  him.  For,  minute  by 
minute,  he  needed  to  hold  his  own  against  the  school- 
boy sleep  that  sought  to  weigh  his  eyelids  down ;  step 
by  step,  he  must  beat  his  enemy  back,  till  untimely 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         341 

slumber  should  flee  before  him;  nor  did  he  break  his 
faithful  watch  until  the  light  of  day  brought  with  it 
full  measure  of- joy,  pressed  down  and  running  over. 

But  the  night  was  still  around  both  man  and  boy 
when  Malcolm  first  arose  and  took  his  stand  upon  the 
watch  tower;  while  Bishop  Saul,  knowing  nothing  of 
the  little  sentinel  who  mounted  guard  over  him,  walked 
steadily  onwards  through  the  darkness.  Leaving  the 
town  behind  him,  he  at  last  reached  a  favourite  spot. 
The  country  was  wild  and  rugged  here  at  the  head 
of  this  rocky  glen,  where  he  and  Malcolm  often  rested 
during  their  rambles  across  the  beautiful  country  sur- 
rounding the  old  city  of  Exminster. 

Bishop  Saul  did  not  sit  down,  but  leant  a  little 
heavily — for  he  seemed  to  be  strangely  tired — against 
a  young  tree,  which  he  and  Malcolm  always  used  as  a 
landmark.  And  just  there,  where  he  and  the  thoughtful 
child  had  held  many  a  sage  conversation,  he  now  sought 
and  obtained  answer  to  the  question  of  the  ages — 
"What  is  truth?" 

But  not  easily  did  he  yield  obedience  to  the  answer 
when  it  came;  not  readily  did  he  turn  to  follow  the 
guiding  star  which  he  now  saw  had  arisen  for  him. 
For  such  a  man  it  was  doubly  hard  to  journey  to  the 
spot  "  where  the  young  child  lay  " ;  it  was  doubly  hard 
for  such  an  one  to  worship  Mind  where  matter  had  sat 
so  long  enthroned;  to  pull  down  cherished  idols  one 
by  one,  to  bow  low,  and  lower  yet,  is  ever  hard  to  the 
pride  of  life  and  power.  Sore  was  the  travail  of  that 
new  birth:  right  bitter  was  that  human  cry,  born  of 
those  death-throes  which  must  precede  the  mortal's 
ascent  from  matter  into  Mind.  Once  only  did  that 
awful  cry,  as  of  a  man  in  fearful  pain,  master  the 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

strong  will  that  sought  to  silence  it;  pressing  its  way 
out  into  the  night,  it  crept  down  the  rocky  gorge  like 
a  homeless  wanderer  seeking  rest  and  finding  none, 'till 
its  life  was  lost  amid  the  very  echoes  to  which  it  had 
given  birth.  For  the  most  part  the  man  wrestled 
silently.  Through  the  long  hours  he  stood  there  al- 
most motionless.  With  his  arms  folded  high  across 
his  breast  and  his  head  sunk  low,  he  seemed  a  monument 
carved  upon  the  semi-darkness.  Once  and  once  again 
his  form  shook  with  the  raging  of  the  storm  within, 
while,  like  the  fierce  growl  of  a  beast  at  bay,  low 
mutterings  forced  their  way  between  his  straightened 
lips. 

Then  a  great  silence  bound  him,  nor  did  it  let  him 
go  until  the  day  broke,  and  Freedom  claimed  him  for 
her  own. 

Robert  Saul  knew  not  how  to  do  a  thing  at  all,  un- 
less he  did  that  thing  most  wholly;  and  as  the  white 
light  of  the  early  dawn  baptised  him  with  its  promise 
of  a  new-born  day,  he  homed  within  his  breast  the 
angels  which,  throughout  that  night  of  pain,  he  had 
been  entertaining  unawares.  Now  learning  for  the  first 
time  the  true  lesson  of  the  cross,  he  lifted  his  awakened 
vision  far  above  the  crucifix,  and  sought  "  the  resurrec- 
tion and  the  life."  Thus  he  turned  forever  from  the 
creed  of  man  to  the  holy  law  of  God;  and  thus  we 
leave  him,  nor  seek  to  ask  further  question  of  his 
lonely  vigil;  for  man  must  ever  bear  his  Gethsemane 
alone,  nor  may  he  climb  the  hill  of  Calvary  save  he 
lean  only  upon  the  "  everlasting  arms." 

Nay !  pity  him  not,  ye  men  and  women  of  the  world ; 
pity  him  not,  for  his  redemption  draweth  nigh.  What 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         343 

if  the  mortal  throes  sear  through  the  flesh  as  might 
liquid  fire?  After  the  crucifixion  cometh  the  resur- 
rection. "  The  burning  fiery  furnace  "  will  but  loosen 
his  bonds :  and  now,  behold  him  free,  walking  amid  the 
flames  with  one  whose  form  "  is  like  the  Son  of  God  " ! 

Oh,  ye,  who  play  with  glittering  phantasies ;  oh,  ye, 
whose  all  is  but  an  empty  dream !  Pity  him  not :  but 
turn  and  leave  him.  Tread  softly  and  with  shoeless 
feet,  for  the  place  whereon  ye  gaze  is  holy  ground. 
Leave  him  with  his  risen  Christ;  leave  him  with  the 
Prince  of  Peace. 

And  haste  ye,  haste,  ye  men  and  women  of  the 
world!  Go  get  ye  oil  and  trim  your  lamps,  for  the 
bridegroom  tarries  not  for  those  who  slumber,  nor  for 
those  who  sleep.  Haste  ye,  haste !  and  don  your  wed- 
ding robes!  see  quickly  to  your  spotless  white,  that 
when  the  call  to  you  shall  come,  ye  too  may  take  your 
stand  with  that  great  multitude  who,  all  radiantly 
apparelled,  working,  watching,  praying,  ever  praise 
Him  day  and  night  singing  Holy,  Holy,  Holy,  the 
First,  the  Last,  the  Evermore-Shall-Be.  Then  from 
the  great  white  throne  shall  come  the  benediction: — 
"  He  that  overcometh  shall  inherit  all  things ;  and  I 
will  be  his  God,  and  he  shall  be  my  son." 

Thus  shall  "  all  nations,  and  kindreds,  and  people, 
and  tongues,"  one  day  "  see  His  face "  and  receive 
His  name  upon  their  foreheads. 


CHAPTER    XXXIX 

OUT  OF  DARKNESS  INTO  HIS  MARVELLOUS  LIGHT 

Build  thee  more  stately  mansions,  O  my  soul! 

As  the  swift  seasons  roll, 

Leave  thy  low-vaulted  past: 

Let  each  new  temple,  nobler  than  the  last, 

Shut  thee  from  heaven  with  a  dome  more  vast, 

Till  thou  at  length  art  free, 

Leaving  thine  outgrown  shell  by  life's  unresting  sea. 

— Lowell. 

THE  nameless  stir  of  early  morning!  A  white-robed 
child  upon  the  stair;  a  man's  firm  tread  and  sudden 
halt.  Then !  one  short  moment  wonder-filled ;  and  then 
— a  little  child  sobbing  softly,  upon  the  throbbing 
heart  of  a  grateful  man ;  and  after — slow  speech,  each 
word  a  soft  caress,  "  Malcolm,  little  Malcolm !  have  you 
watched  the  night  with  me?  " 

The  beautiful  old  cathedral  was  filled  with  men  and 
women  eager  to  hear  the  Bishop  of  Exminster  preach. 
Many,  only  in  the  city  for  the  harvest  week,  had  ar- 
ranged to  stay  over  the  Sunday  on  purpose  to  attend 
this  service,  and  many  others  had  travelled  far  that 
lovely  autumn  morning,  drawn  partly  by  a  desire  to 
judge  for  themselves  whether  Bishop;  Saul  were  as 
highly  gifted  as  the  world  said,  and  partly  by  a  less 
conscious,  but  not  less  strong  desire,  to  hear  what  were 
the  views  of  so  great  a  man  upon  the  much  vexed 

344 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         345 

question  of  Christian  Science.  The  choir  had  just  be- 
gun the  rendering  of  the  anthem,  when  a  woman,  hard 
and  colourless  of  face,  and  dressed  in  the  grey  uniform 
of  a  hospital  nurse,  might  have  been  seen,  had  any 
chanced  to  observe  her,  standing  among  the  great  elms 
which  lined  the  central  walk  of  the  Close.  She  held  a 
half-sheet  of  paper  in  her  hand  and  smiled  as  she  read 
the  words  upon  it. 

"  Best,"  she  muttered,  "  for  him  to  have  abided  by 
that  other  half  and  parted  with  the  boy  for  a  time 
only,  when  ill.  Now,  he  shall  pay  me  well  for  this 
postscript  of  a  later  date,  or  part  with  the  child  for 
ever." 

Placing  the  paper  in  her  breast  she  hurried  towards 
the  western  door  and  pushed  her  way  through  the  disap- 
pointed numbers  who  were  now  leaving  the  door. 

"  It's  no  use,"  a  good-natured  yeoman  told  her, 
"  there  wasn't  room  for  a  baby  long  before  the  service 
began,  and  hundreds  have  gone  away  disappointed." 

"  I  must  get  in,"  she  exclaimed  sharply,  "  I'm  wanted 
by  a  sick  lady  inside." 

"  Is  that  so?  Well,  come  along  and  we'll  see  if 
we  can  squeeze  a  little  'un  like  you  through,  but  I'm 
thinking  that,  unless  you  know  just  where  to  look 
for  your  '  sick  lady,'  she'll  be  long  in  wanting  you." 

Thus  they  fought  an  opening  through  the  crowd, 
and  the  woman,  using  her  lie  with  good  effect,  stood 
at  last  well  up  in  the  middle  aisle.  Her  face  wore  a 
strained  and  anxious  look.  Money  she  must  have, 
money  she  would  have,  and  she  had  come  to  listen  to 
this  sermon  in  order  to  see  just  how  much  that  half- 
sheet  of  paper  which  she  carried  was  now  worth. 
"  Fool,"  she  mentally  exclaimed,  "  blind  fool !  never  to 


346         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

see  that  I  had  torn  the  letter  apart ;  "  and  the  lines 
about  her  mouth  became  more  straight  as  she  remem- 
bered that  the  aftermath,  which  her  hand  controlled, 
was  like  to  bow  a  proud  head  to  the  dust  and  break 
a  heart  which  had  dared  once  again  to  hope.  "  If," 
she  argued,  "  if  he  hates  Christian  Science  as  he  hated 
it  a  year  ago,  I  will  ask  a  fat  lump  for  the  letter  now. 
If  he  loves  the  child  as  much  as  people  say  he  does, 
he  will  pay  me  a  right  good  fistful  for  it." 

She  could  not  see  Bishop  Saul  from  where  she  stood, 
and  it  was  not  until  the  choir  commenced  the  singing 
of  the  second  hymn  and  he  mounted  the  pulpit  steps, 
that  he  became  visible  to  the  majority  present. 

Every  head  was  instantly  raised,  and  every  eye  ob- 
served the  man,  who  was  freely  spoken  of  as  Eng- 
land's future  Archbishop. 

Upon  this  occasion  many  had  expected  Bishop  Saul, 
whose  ritualistic  views  were  well  known,  to  wear  his 
mitre,  but  he  did  not.  Very  imposing  nevertheless  was 
the  central  figure  in  that  great  church.  Robert  Saul 
had  always  been  one  of  those  whom  men  turn  to  look 
at.  His  athletic  form  and  his  fine  head  made  him  a 
noticeable  man  anywhere.  To-day,  he  stood  alone. 
Clothed  in  the  robes  which  marked  his  office,  the  light 
falling  full  upon  his  face  and  dyeing  to  a  brighter 
crimson  the  hood  he  wore,  he  drew  the  thought  of  the 
multitude  upon  him;  and  many  present  asked  them- 
selves, had  they  ever  before  seen  so  grand  a  man?  As 
a  boy  he  had  always  carried  himself  beyond  his  years 
and  seemed  to  set  man's  calendar  at  naught.  To-day, 
strangers,  studying  his  appearance  for  the  first  time, 
decided  that  after  all  he  was  not  so  young  a  bishop  as 
repute  declared  him  to  be.  That  was  the  first  impres- 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         347 

sion,  followed  later  by  the  thought  that  it  was  impos- 
sible to  approximate  the  age  of  anyone,  whose  face 
became  suddenly  transformed  when  he  smiled.  He  did 
not  speak  at  first.  Indeed,  it  seemed  a  long  time  that 
he  stood  there  stationary  and  calm,  not  looking  at  the 
unnumbered  crowd  below  him,  but  gazing  intently  at  a 
child  who  sat  beneath  the  pulpit  steps.  The  boy  sud- 
denly raised  his  bright  eyes  and  smiled  up  in  the  man's 
face,  and  those  who  were  wont  to  speak  of  Bishop 
Saul's  dark  eyes  as  gloomy,  and  who  thought  his  beauty 
marred  by  oversternness,  would  not  have  said  it  then ; 
for  as  his  eyes  rested  upon  the  boy's  sweet  face,  they 
gave  back  smile  for  smile. 

A  watching  woman  in  the  throng  closed  her  hand 
upon  a  letter  which  she  carried  next  her  breast,  and  her 
mouth  hardened  as  she  observed  the  two.  "  Good,"  she 
murmured  in  her  heart,  "  I  will  ask  another  hundred  of 
my  lord !  " 

And  now  the  Bishop  raised  his  head  and  gave  forth 
his  text: — 

"  In  the  Epistle  of  Paul  to  Titus,  in  the  first  chapter 
andi  the  seventh  verse,"  he  said,  "  is  the  following 
declaration : — 

" '  For  a  bishop  must  be  blameless,  as  the  steward 
of  God ;  not  self-willed,  not  soon  angry ; '  and  in  the 
Acts  of  the  Apostles,  in  the  first  chapter  and  the 
twentieth  verse,  we  read  these  words ;  '  Let  his  habita- 
tion be  desolate,  and  let  no  man  dwell  therein ;  and 
his  bishoprick  let  another  take.' ' 

Bishop  Saul  paused,  and  the  whole  of  that  vast 
company  were  stirred  by  the  presence  of  something 
which  they  felt  was  in  their  midst,  but  which  had  not 
yet  declared  its  form.  At  first  the  Bishop's  voice  had 


348         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

shaken  while  he  spoke,  but  as  he  uttered  the  last  part 
of  his  strangely  chosen  text,  the  words  rang  out  clear 
and  strong  and  reached  the  farthest  corner  of  the 
building. 

Only  Malcolm  understood.  His  face  flushed  a  little, 
and  his  eyelids  dropped  over  his  eyes  while  his  heart 
was  filled  with  prayer  and  praise.  Robert  Saul  looked 
at  the  child,  and  he  too  understood — understood  that  a 
brother's  hand  had  reached  him  in  the  dark  and  would 
not  let  him  tread  the  winepress  quite  alone.  Wonder- 
ously  upheld,  he  immediately  took  up  his  theme  and 
never  wavered  till  the  last  word  was  said. 

"  My  brothers  and  my  sisters  " — and  the  Bishop's 
voice  was  very  clear  and  strangely  quiet  in  its  tone — 
"  I,  your  Bishop,  have  a  short  story  to  tell  you,  a 
true  story — the  story  of  a  man's  mistake.  This  man 
had  always  led  a  lonely  life,  and  always  he  had  hun- 
gered to  be  loved.  One  day,  he  found  himself  beloved, 
and  that  he  was  (or  so  he  thought)  no  longer  hungry. 
But  something  came  (or  so  he  thought)  between  him 
and  the  one  who  loved  him.  Then  he,  *  self-willed  '  and 
*  soon  angry,'  pushed  the  one  who  loved  him  from  his 
breast  and  nurtured  hatred  in  his  heart  for  the  thing 
that  had,  so  he  declared,  separated  him  from  her  who 
loved  him.  And  he  vowed  that  he  would  slay  this 
thing,  but  found  that  he  could  not  do  so.  For  it  grew 
in  beauty  and  in  grace  in  spite  of  all  that  he  could  do. 
It  saved  the  sinner,  and  it  healed  the  sick,  in  spite  of 
pride  of  priestcraft  and  of  power.  At  every  turn  it 
mastered  him;  but  still  he  fought  it  and  hated  it  the 
more.  And  all  the  time  he  hungered  to  be  loved;  he 
hungered  also  for  renown,  for  place  and  power;  and  for 
honour  second  only  to  a  king's. 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         349 

"  Then  one  day  there  came  into  his  life  a  second 
love — a  sister  in  need  of  help.  A  gentle  little  wayside 
flower.  He  took  her  to  his  heart  and  was  less  hungry 
than  before,  and  he  loved  that  sister's  child.  When 
once  again,  the  thing  he  hated  came  between  him  and 
his  love  (or  so  he  thought)  .  .  .  therefore 
.  .  .  he  stole  that  child,  and  .  .  .  killed  that 
sister.  Then  he  took  that  sister's  child  and  folded  him 
within  his  heart,  and  for  the  third  time  love  was  his, 
and  this  time  he  swore  that  he  would  keep  it,  come  what 
would.  And  for  the  third  time,  the  thing  he  hated  rose 
up  and  asked  of  him  his  love — the  child!  A  woman, 
she  who  had  stood  beside  the  death-bed  of  his  sister, 
stood  before  him  with  a  calculating  face  and  said,  '  I 
hold  a  document — a  legal  document,  though  written  by 
a  dying  hand — which  says  that  your  ward  shall  be 
cared  for,  if  ill,  not  by  you  but  by  a  stranger  whose 
name  you  scarcely  know.'  But  he  knew  the  stranger's 
name  full  well:  and  one  other  thing  besides  he  knew — 
that  this  stranger  loved  the  thing  which  he  himself 
hated  most  in  all  the  world,  and  so  ...  he  gave 
that  woman  money,  and  thus  he  kept  the  child  and 
loved  him,  as  it  seemed  to  him,  with  an  everlasting 
love.  Then  as  the  days  passed  by,  he  asked  the  child 
to  love  him  back  again,  so  that  he  might  not  be  hungry 
night  and  day.  The  child  was  rich,  and  the  man  was 
very  poor,  for  he  had  lost  all  that  the  child  possessed 
and,  of  course,  had  paid  it  back  even  unto  the  uttermost 
farthing.  But  he  did  not  tell  the  child  that  he  was  rich, 
for  he  said  in  his  heart ;  *  The  boy  must  look  to  me  for 
everything,  and  learn  to  lean  on  me  alone ! '  Dis- 
honest ?  Yes — but — he  loved  the  child ;  and  asked  only 
that  the  child  should  love  him  back  again.  And  so 


350         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

he  did;  and  the  man's  heart-hunger  was  stayed  awhile. 
But  as  the  days  pased  on,  the  months  brought  only 
pain,  for  the  child  sickened  and  almost  died.  Then  a 
strange  thing  happened.  This  thing,  which  the  man 
had  tried  to  kill — this  thing  that  he  had  hated  with 
a  deadly  hate — rose  up  once  more  and  placed  the  child, 
now  living,  in  his  arms.  What  more  could  he  want, 
for  place  and  power  were  also  his,  and  honour  and  re- 
nown, but  still — he  was  often  hungry,  and  still  he  tried 
to  slay  that  which  had  given  him  back  his  almost 
dead. 

"  My  brothers  and  my  sisters,  you  have  heard  that 
'  a  bishop  must  be  blameless,'  '  not  self-willed,  not  soon 
angry.'  What  think  you  ?  I  am  that  man !  " 

As  the  modulated  voice  dropped  low  and  ceased  its 
utterance,  a  great  silence  reigned,  and  every  eye  was 
held  to  one  point  in  that  vast  throng,  for  Robert  Saul, 
with  action  unpremeditated  yet  very  calm,  unloosed 
the  lawn  about  his  neck,  and  raising  hands  which  trem- 
bled, though  none  knew  it,  he  lifted  the  hood  above  his 
head  and  laid  it  across  the  pulpit  rail.  Quietly,  and 
without  haste,  he  unfastened  the  white  frilled  sleeves 
and  drew  robe  and  surplice  gently  off.  His  cassock 
he  unbuttoned  with  fingers  now  quite  firm  and  folded 
it  beside  the  hood.  And  that  silent  congregation,  in 
awe-struck  wonder,  watched  him,  shocked  beyond  meas- 
ure at  that  which  was  happening  in  their  midst.  None 
moved,  none  lowered  their  gaze  from  the  Bishop's  form, 
as  he  stood  before  them  garbed  in  the  quiet  dress  of 
an  English  gentleman.  Yes !  someone  stirred.  A 
woman,  her  colourless  face  now  dyed  red  with  wrath, 
pushed  and  elbowed  her  way  down  the  aisle  towards  the 
western  door.  "  Fool ! "  she  muttered,  "  fool !  to  wait 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         351 

so  long !  now,  I  am  undone !  "  But  none  noticed  her, 
none  took  their  steadfast  gaze  from  Bishop  Saul.  Yes ! 
one  other  moved.  A  child  rose  from  his  seat,  and 
swiftly  mounted  the  pulpit  steps ;  and  now  a  flaxen 
head  and  a  boy's  young  face  was  visible  above  the 
carved  oak  rail ;  then  a  little  hand  rested  upon  the 
strong  white  hand  of  Robert  Saul,  as  a  child's  clear 
treble,  sweet  and  strong,  broke  the  strange  silence 
which  possessed  the  attentive  throng. 

"  Uncle !     I  am  here." 

That  was  all  that  the  boy  could  say,  and  it  was 
almost  more  than  Robert  Saul  knew  how  to  bear. 
Now  women  wept,  though  silently,  and  men's  stern 
faces  grew  more  stern. 

Robert  Saul  covered  the  boy's  hand  with  his  own, 
and  thus  they  stood  together  side  by  side.  And  now 
the  man's  musical  voice,  overflowing  with  a  note  of 
gladness,  reached  every  waiting  heart,  as  he  repeated 
softly  and  slowly  the  last  words  of  his  text :  "  Let 
his  habitation  be  desolate,  and  let  no  man  dwell  therein, 
and  his  bishoprick  let  another  take." 

Now  the  women  trembled  but  were  silent,  and  men 
sat  very  still,  as  is  the  manner  of  the  English-born 
whose  hearts  are  overfull ;  for  man  and  boy  had  turned 
and,  hand  in  hand,  descended  the  pulpit  steps.  Reach- 
ing the  head  of  the  nave,  Robert  Saul  paused  upon  the 
top  step  of  the  chancel,  and  standing  there,  the  light 
from  a  near  window  rested  upon  his  dark  head,  while  it 
lit  into  a  softer  radiance  the  gold  of  the  boy's  bright 
hair. 

Suddenly  the  man  threw  his  shoulders  back  and  held 
one  arm  behind  him  with  an  easy  grace. 

"  My  brothers  and  my  sisters,"  he  said — his  voice 


352         THE    SEAMLESS    ROBE 

was  now  stronger  than  before,  and  buoyant  with  a 
new-born  strength — "  this  thing  of  which  I  have  told 
you  bears  a  little-honoured  name,  and  yet  it  is  a  name 
which  indicates,  as  I  now  understand,  that  for  which 
many  men  have  long  been  waiting — a  religion  that  is 
also  scientific.  I  had  promised  to  preach  to  you  to-day 
upon  the  subject  of  Christian  Science,  but  now  I  do 
not  dare  to  preach  to  you  at  all;  and  moreover,  if  I 
would,  I  could  not  tell  you  of  that  of  which  I  myself 
have  yet  to  learn  by  far  the  greater  part.  I  have  told 
you  that  Christian  Science  has  given  me  back  my  al- 
most dead,  but  I  believe  that  it  holds  a  blessing  greater 
by  far  than  that,  for  those  whose  hearts  are  hungering 
for  the  answer  to  Pilate's  question,  *  What  is  truth  ?  ' 
I  believe  that  it  holds  deep  within  its  heart  the  answer 
to  that  great  question  of  the  ages:  and  this  is  what 
I  have  to  say ;  '  Come  and  see.'  Look  away  from  man- 
made  theories,  and  search  for  the  eternal  Principle  of 
life.  Look  up  above  the  crucifix,  and  there  you  will 
find  the  risen  Christ.  Look  away  from  the  creeds  of 
men,  upwards  and  onwards,  to  the  law  of  God.  Above 
all,  cease  to  hate  and  learn  to  love." 

Robert  Saul  paused  a  moment  and  then  leant  for- 
ward a  little,  his  face  so  softened  by  the  thought 
within,  that  it  sped  his  message  home  to  many  a  tired 
heart. 

"  My  brothers  and  my  sisters,  farewell !  I  go  in 
search  of  the  Nazarene." 

As  the  man  and  boy  moved  in  silence  down  the 
crowded  aisle,  a  path  opened  where  none  had  seemed 
to  be,  and  every  eye  followed  the  man's  great  form 
and  the  boy's  fair  head;  but  before  they  could  reach 
the  western  door  a  woman's  voice  cut  its  way  half 


358 

across  the  church  and  the  next  moment  she  stood 
before  Robert  Saul.  He  knew  her  instantly — the 
woman  from  whom  he  had  bought  Malcolm!  She  was 
close  to  him  now,  in  spite  of  the  crowd  that  turned  to 
hold  her  back,  and  she  was  beside  herself  with  malice 
and  only  half  knew  what  she  did. 

"  Curse  you,"  she  hissed,  "  curse  your  blubbering 
confession,  for  the  work  of  a  white-livered  fool !  " 

Robert  Saul  had  halted  at  the  first  sound  of  her 
voice,  and  as  she  directed  her  words  full  upon  him, 
the  wild  passion,  which  had  many  times  in  his  life 
swept  him  before  it,  now  drove  the  flaming  colour  into 
his  face.  But  it  could  do  no  more,  for  its  day  was 
done,  and  as  the  red  blood  surged  from  brow  to  neck, 
it  left  the  man's  face  pure  and  very  calm.  Then  he 
knew,  as  he  stood  there  victorious,  that  he  was  freed 
from  the  sin  which  he  had  fought  so  unsuccessfully 
until  this  hour,  and  that  thus  he  stood  upon  a  higher 
height  than  heretofore.  Now,  once  more,  Malcolm 
held  his  uncle's  hand  a  little  hard;  once  more,  the  boy 
raised  his  clear  eyes  to  those  of  the  man ;  once  more, 
brother  helped  brother  a  little  further  up  the  great 
ascent,  and  then  the  man  spoke. 

Every  eye  was  drawn  to  the  now  isolated  group; 
every  consciousness  was  attentive,  and  by  far  the  ma- 
jority of  that  large  concourse  realised  that  they  stood 
in  the  presence  of  a  new  power,  and  as  they  noted  the 
man's  quiet  strength  and  the  beauty  of  his  face, 
etherealised  by  recent  travail  of  the  flesh,  they  were 
half  prepared  for  the  calm  words  which  followed. 

"  My  sister," — Robert  Saul's  beautiful  voice  now 
penetrated  to  the  utmost  aisle — "  we  have  much  to  for- 
give each  other.  Shall  we  not  begin  at  once  ?  "  Then 


354 

taking  one  step  forward  and  bending  from  his  great 
height,  he  lifted  the  woman's  hand  in  his. 

When,  a  moment  later  he  turned  and  passed  through 
the  western  door,  those  hundreds  who  had  gathered 
together  to  hear  Bishop  Saul  preach  that  day,  dis- 
persed in  grave  silence,  and  many  carried  the  memory 
of  his  face  with  them,  as  they,  too,  turned  to  journey 
up  "  the  mountain,"  while  to  the  hungry  heart  there 
came  that  day  a  heavenly  visitant  from  on  high — the 
still  small  voice  of  Love! 


CHAPTER   XL 

A  LONELY  BARQUE  UPON  THE  MIGHTY  DEEP 

Onward,  Christian,  though  the  region 
Where  thou  art  be  drear  and  lone, 

God  hath  set  a  guardian  legion 
Very  near  thee, — press  thou  on! 

By  the  thorn-road,  and  none  other, 

Is  the  mount  of  vision  won; 
Tread  it  without  shrinking,  brother! 

Jesus  trod  it, — press  thou  on! 

By  thy  trustful,  calm  endeavour, 

Guiding,  cheering,  like  the  sun; 
Earth-bound  hearts  thou  shalt  deliver, 

Oh,  for  their  sake, — press  thou  on! 

— 8.  Johnson. 

EARLY  the  next  afternoon  Robert  Saul  stood  before 
Lady  Cecil  Gwynne.  She  had  felt  sure  that  he  would 
come  and  had  given  orders  that  she  was  "  at  home  " 
to  no  one  else  that  day. 

As  she  rose  from  before  her  writing-table  to  receive 
him,  Cecil  Gwynne  became  instantly  aware  of  a  great 
alteration  in  the  appearance  of  the  man  who  stood  be- 
fore her.  Doubtless  the  heather-mixture  tweeds  which 
he  wore  partly  accounte/i  for  his  air  of  freedom.  The 
rough  suit  was  indeed  an  old  friend  and  was  associated 
in  Robert's  mind  with  holiday  tramps  across  the  moors 
of  Scotland  in  the  days  when  he  was  still  in  a  meas- 
ure his  own  master  and  had  spent  many  a  long  hour 
shooting  or  fishing  in  the  Highlands.  It  had  sur- 

818 


356         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

prised  him  that  morning  to  find  the  friendly  home-spun 
still  in  his  possession. 

But  Cecil  knew  that  rough  brown,  in  the  place  of 
smooth  black,  was  not  alone  enough  to  account  for  the 
change  which  she  now  observed  in  Robert  Saul.  His 
face,  fine-drawn,  showed  signs  of  recent  suffering,  and 
yet  he  looked  less  anxious  and  even  younger  than  be- 
fore. His  manner  was  perfectly  composed;  that,  it 
usually  was ;  but  to-day  the  whole  man  seemed  to  be 
possessed  of  a  new  reserve  of  power,  which  somehow 
overruled  his  emphatic  personality,  while  adding  to  his 
strength. 

"  I  have  come,  Cecil,"  Mr.  Saul  spoke  a  little  quickly, 
"  to  say  *  good-bye.'  Of  course  you  have  seen  the 
morning  papers?  Malcolm  is  now  with  his  guardians, 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Meade,  who  I  find  know  you  quite  well. 
Will  you,"  he  hesitated  a  little,  "  will  you  watch  over 
the  boy  for  me,  while  I  am  out  of  England?  Mr. 
Meade  is  quite  willing  that  every  important  decision 
should  be  referred  to  you  before  final  action  is  taken. 
Naturally  it  will  be  easier  for  me,"  he  paused,  but  only 
for  a  moment,  "  to  leave  the  child,  if  I  feel  that  you 
will  do  a  mother's  part  towards  him." 

"  Of  course  I  will,  and  I  shall  be  loving  all  the  time 
to  do  it ;  but  you  ?  " 

"  I? "  Mr.  Saul  moved  towards  the  window  and 
looked  steadily  away  from  Cecil  Gwynne.  After  a 
long  time  he  turned  and,  crossing  the  room,,  stood 
beside  her  chair.  Very  close  he  stood,  and  his  hands 
trembled  as  he  held  them  to  his  side.  "  I,"  he  re- 
peated, and  now  he  smiled  a  little,  "  I  have  what  seems 
to  me  to  be  a  great  battle  to  fight.  When  I  have 
fought  it,  I  shall  stand  before  you  again." 


THE     SEAMLESS    ROBE         357 

Cecil  did  not  answer  for  a  while.  She  understood 
so  well  all  that  this  man  had  suffered  and  knew  per- 
haps better  than  he  did,  that  he  still  must  suffer,  be- 
cause the  road  from  sense  to  Soul  is  uphill  all  the 
way,  and  there  are  dark  mountain  passes  thereon  which 
must  be  breasted  by  each  traveller — and  alone.  This 
Cecil  Gwynne  knew  better  than  the  man  before  her 
could  know  it  as  yet,  for  she  realised  that  the  heights 
of  Mind  are  only  won  through  sore  travail  of  the  flesh. 
Her  voice,  when  at  last  she  answered  him,  was  soft 
and  more  tender  than  Robert  had  ever  known  it  to  be, 
and  it  did  not  make  his  resolution  less  hard  to  keep. 

"  Malcolm  and  I- " ;  she  ceased  speaking,  for 

Robert  Saul's  face  had  suddenly  grown  stern,  and  it 
seemed  that  he  had  borne  all  that  he  then  could  bear. 

By-and-by  they  talked  again,  and  when,  an  hour 
later,  Robert  rose  to  go,  he  had  already  well  begun 
that  fight  which  ever  leaves  the  soldier  stronger  than 
before. 

He  was  wonderfully  calm  and  gentler  than  ever  in 
his  life  before,  when  he  held  Cecil's  hand  in  farewell. 
"  You  know,  of  course,  why  I  do  not  speak  of  my  love 
for  you,"  he  said ;  "  I  may  not,  until  I  have  well  begun 
the  climb.  But  some  day,  sweetheart,  I  shall  return; 
some  day  I  shall  most  surely  return,  and  then " 

He  lingered  a  moment,  but  Cecil  Gwynne  did  not 
attempt  to  keep  him.  She  could  not  make  that  which 
he  had  to  do  easier,  and  she  would  not  make  it  more 
hard;  for  the  proud  man,  humbled,  touched  her  as  he 
never  had  touched  her  when  at  the  zenith  of  his  pride. 

A  week  later  Robert  Saul  left  England ;  and  on  the 
day  of  his  embarkation  for  Africa,  those  who  loved  him 


358         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

best  were  by  his  side  to  bid  him  lovingly,  "  God-speed." 
The  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Westmoreland  were  there. 
Robby  Campbell  and  his  brother  James,  Margaret 
Courcy  and  Cecil  Gwynne,  and  lastly — Malcolm. 

Time  was  almost  up  as  Robert  called  the  boy  to 
him.  Together  they  paced  the  deck,  and  what  he  said 
to  the  child  was  for  Malcolm's  ears  alone.  The  first 
warning  bell  had  sounded,  as  Mr.  Saul  turned  to  say 
good-bye  to  the  little  group  of  friends  who  stood  upon 
the  main  deck,  and  still  he  kept  the  boy's  hand  within 
his  own.  The  others  had  now  left  the  ship  and  Cecil's 
foot  was  upon  the  gangway,  when  Robert  Saul  strode 
to  her  side.  Without  a  word  she  gave  him  her  hand  and 
returned  the  steady  look  which  he  bent  upon  her.  Then 
suddenly  he  stooped  towards  Malcolm,  and  lifting  him 
to  his  breast  he  wrapped  his  arms  about  the  boy  and 
held  him  in  a  close  embrace.  Malcolm  was  sobbing 
now,  and  Robert  gently  put  him  down  and  folded  the 
child's  small  hand  within  Cecil's  loving  clasp. 

"  Yours,"  he  said,  and  his  strong  voice  shook  a 
little,  "  yours — until  I  return  to  claim  you  both." 

Cecil's  face  was  very  grave,  but  it  seemed  to  Robert, 
as  he  looked  again  into  her  eyes,  seeking  the  promise 
that  her  trembling  lips  could  not — or  would  not — give 
him,  that  they  were  like  the  sweet  Alpine  gentian 
drenched  in  dew,  yet  smiling  all  the  time  beneath  the 
kiss  of  Hope's  brave  sunlight. 

From  the  shore,  the  little  band  of  friends  watched 
the  ship  get  slowly  under  way,  and  they  remained 
silently  gazing  after  her  as  she  moved  towards  the 
open  sea.  As  she  rounded  a  bend  of  the  river,  Mr. 
Saul  passed  from  their  sight,  standing  exactly  as  he 
had  stood  since  that  last  good-bye — a  lonely  figure, 


THE     SEAMLESS    ROBE         359 

calm  and  strong;  a  thing  apart,  grand  in  the  isolation 
of  a  great  resolve;  a  man  whose  heart  had  wakened 
to  a  throbbing  love  for  all  mankind. 

Courage,  Robert  Saul.  For  surely  thou  dost  journey 
up  and  on,  thus  winning  thy  way  "  out  of  darkness 
into  his  marvellous  light." 

Courage!  all  ye  who  stand  enrolled  in  the  army  of 
the  Lord — ye  soldiers  of  the  healing  Christ.  Courage ! 
for  see!  Freedom's  white  banner  is  unfurled  and  waves 
right  bravely  in  the  sun.  Courage!  ye  old  men  and 
women.  Courage!  ye  young  men  and  maidens. 
Courage !  ye  little  children.  "  The  battle  is  the 
Lord's ! "  Hold  within  your  ears  the  ringing  cheer, 
"  Forward !  ever  forward,  up  and  on."  Utter  with  one 
voice  the  battle  cry,  "  Peace  on  earth,  good  will  to- 
wards men."  Take  within  your  hand  the  "  sword  of 
the  Spirit,  which  is  the  word  of  God."  Hold  within 
your  heart  the  silent  prayer.  Thus,  loving  Good  su- 
premely and  self  not  at  all,  the  Truth  shall  be  your 
shield  and  buckler;  your  helmet, — Life  eternal;  and 
your  breastplate, — Love  divine.  Wrap  thee  round  with 
living  love  and  sweet  humility,  and  thus  equipped,  the 
poisoned  arrow  cannot  reach  you.  Thus  equipped,  ye 
shall  stand  unharmed  while  error  falls  upon  the  battle- 
field of  Armageddon. 


CHAPTER    XLI 

SCALING   THE   HIGHER    HEIGHTS 

But  warm,  sweet,  tender,  even  yet 

A  present  help  is  He; 
And  faith  has  still  its  Olivet, 

And  love  its  Galilee. 

The  healing  of  the  seamless  dress 

Is  by  our  beds  of  pain; 
We  touch  Him  in  life's  throng  and  press, 

And  we  are  whole  again. 

— Whitttor. 

A  WOMAN,  young  and  with  a  face  both  sweet  and 
grave,  held  an  unopened  letter  in  her  hand.  She  sat 
so  still  that  a  great  Newfoundland  dog  rose  from  the 
sunny  spot  which  he  had  chosen  for  his  own  and  gently 
pushed  his  noble  head  against  her  arm.  She  raised 
her  hand  and  rested  it  upon  his  neck,  until,  satisfied 
by  the  soft  caress,  he  turned  and  spread  himself  upon 
the  cabin  floor  beside  her  chair.  Lifting  his  chin  a 
little,  he  laid  it  upon  the  white  canvas  of  her  shoe, 
knowing  that  she  had  need  of  his  silent  love. 

Still  the  letter  remained  unopened  while  the  woman 
turned  her  thought  upon  a  scene  which  she  had  lately 
left.  A  fetid  den,  disgracing  the  richest  country  in 
the  world!  a  child's  white  face,  and  pitiful  eyes!  a 
mother,  drunk  and  steeped  in  sin!  Foul  air,  teeming 
with  counterfeit  life !  In  short — unholy  thought  mani- 
fested in  most  unholy  pain!  But  Mind  had  conquered 

360 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE          361 

as  Mind  ever  must  and  will.  The  child's  weak  moan 
had  ceased,  for  Love  had  sent  the  angels  of  His 
Presence  to  encamp  about  him  and  thus  delivered  him ; 
and  Life  had  wakened  the  weary  thought  to  restful 
rest,  while  Truth  had  fed  the  hungering  heart  and 
freed  the  crippled  limbs.  Thus,  one  more  of  God's 
little  ones,  discerning  the  Light,  had  risen  to  new 
activity  and  joyous  life.  But  what  of  those  others, 
those  countless  thousands  who,  by  day  and  night,  send 
up  their  mute,  unconscious  cry  for  help  ?  Cecil  Gwynne 
knew  of  sin  more  black  and  sorrow  more  profound, 
which  only  voiced  itself  in  voiceless  pain ;  and  as  her 
heart  sent  forth  the  importunate  cry,  "  How  long,  O 
Lord,  how  long?  "  penetrating  throughout  the  ages, 
strong  and  clear,  the  sweet  answer  of  the  healing  Christ 
sounded  in  her  heart,  "  Lo,  I  am  with  you  alway ; " 
and  the  glory  of  that  promise,  given  to  "  all  nations  and 
kindreds,"  filled  her  with  a  new-born  peace  and  drove 
the  shadow  of  the  past  away.  With  the  slow  touch 
of  one  possessed  by  the  power  of  deep  thought,  she 
broke  the  seal  of  the  letter  which  still  lay  upon  her 
hand  and  read  it  slowly  through. 

Presently  she  folded  and  placed  it  carefully  in  her 
desk.  Then,  leaving  the  cabin,  she  went  forward  upon 
the  deck  and  threw  her  arm  about  the  mast.  The 
wind  was  high  and  blew  stiffly  in  her  face,  sometimes 
lifting  the  spray  and  sweeping  it  across  her  form. 
She  loved  the  freshness  of  its  cool,  wet  touch,  though 
for  the  most  part  she  did  not  notice  it,  for  her  heart 
was  full  of  praise  and  sent  up  an  ever-rising  psalm 
of  gratitude.  Peace  and  power,  rapture  and  rest, 
swelled  the  sweet  refrain  that  held  her  mute,  while  the 
silence  of  Love  possessed  her  soul. 


362 

Later,  a  tall  lad  joined  her,  and,  confident  of  a  lov- 
ing welcome,  he  slipped  his  arm  through  hers  and 
stood  for  a  long  time  silently  by  her  side. 

"  I  have  heard  from  Angola  to-day,"  she  said  at 
last.  "  Uncle  Robert  asks,  *  Has  Malcolm  yet  de- 
cided upon  his  future  career,  the  army  or  the  univer- 
sity,' which  shall  it  be  ?  " 

"  Oxford  first,"  the  lad  answered  without  a  mo- 
ment's hesitation. 

"  Yes,"  Lady  Cecil  spoke  gravely ;  "  I  think  you  are 
right,  for  you  know  that  *  laborare  est  orare.'  You 
understand  that  true  wisdom  can  only  be  obtained  by 
the  reflection  of  divine  Intelligence,  and  that  with  all 
thy  getting  thou  must  yet  have  understanding.  And 
after  Oxford?  " 

The  boy  drew  an  inward  breath  and  remained  so 
long  silent  that  Cecil  Gwynne  turned  to  look  at  him. 
His  keen  face  was  full  of  life,  and  the  firmly  set  mouth 
spoke  of  strong  resolve.  Deep  with  earnest  purpose, 
his  steadfast  gaze  looked  out  upon  the  waters. 

Then  he  spoke  ardently.  "  And  after  Oxford !  why 
I  decided  that  long  ago — the  day  Uncle  Robert  left 
England.  .  .  .  And  I  wish  that  you  could  come 
too!" 

„  Cecil  lifted  her  hand  and  clasped  that  of  the  lad. 
"  You  have  decided  nothing,"  she  said  gently ;  "  and  my 
work  lies  at  home.  Indeed,  the  Master's  vineyard  is 
so  large  that  we  need  to  pray  daily  that  he  will  send 
more  labourers  of  the  right  sort  into  it.  But  for  you, 
dear,  why,  you  will  decide  nothing  yet,  for  we  learn  in 
Science,  do  we  not, '  to  let  the  morrow  take  thought  for 
itself '  ?  At  the  appointed  time,  Truth  will  lead,  and 
when  it  does  I  am  sure  that  you  will  be  ready  to  go,  if 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         863 

neecl  be,  as  Abraham  went,  *  knowing  not  whither.' 
Meanwhile  it  is  in  the  crowded  city  that  sin  hides  the 
most  easily,  and  there  the  labourers  may  not  be  too 
few.  Furthermore  they  must  stand  ever  i  eye  to  eye ' 
upon  the  walls." 

Above,  the  deep,  deep  blue  of  the  star-flecked 
heavens — the  infinite  variety  of  Mind,  mirrored  by 
worlds  upon  worlds  of  shining  light !  Below-  the  dark 
bosom  of  the  sea,  torn  by  its  own  unrest ! 

With  sails  full  set,  the  yacht  sped  swiftly  onward 
through  the  night,  like  some  mighty  bird  upon  the 
wing. 

The  boy  stood  alone  at  the  starboard  bow,  and  his 
eyes  shone  softly  with  a  brave  and  certain  light,  as  he 
raised  his  face  towards  the  vaulted  heavens  above. 
Joyously,  he  held  a  hope  within  his  heart ;  and,  silently, 
he  sent  his  answer  up  to  Mind — "  Yes,  I  will  be  ready." 

We  first  saw  Robert  Saul,  several  years  ago,  seated 
before  his  table,  intent  upon  the  writing  of  a  letter  to 
Cecil  Gwynne:  to-day,  he  is  once  more  seated  before 
his  desk,  and  again  he  writes  to  Cecil  Gwynne,  and  this 
is  what  he  tells  her: — 

"  Two  years  I  have  been  waiting  to  write  this  to 
you,  my  little  sister;  but  at  last  I  can  say  that  I  am 
striving  to  be  content — content  to  live  my  life  with- 
out you  by  my  side.  I  shall  always  love  you,  Cecil. 
I  am  only  slowly  climbing  toward  that  plane  of 
thought  which  you  have  reached  before  me,  but  at 
last,  my  sister,  I  see ;  still  *  through  a  glass  darkly,' 
but  less  darkly  every  day.  The  fiery  trial  has  been 
mine,  but  the  baptism  of  tears  has  washed  away  the 


364         THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE 

dross  of  selfish  desire,  revealing  something  of  that 
selfless  love  which  holds  the  brotherhood  of  man  with 
bonds  which  never  can  be  severed.  For  what  can  sepa- 
rate those  who  are  consciously  united  in  the  one  great 
Mind  and  who,  ever  '  eye  to  eye,'  press  always  on  and 
up?  To  me  has  already  come,  in  some  measure,  that 
peace  and  joy  which  come  of  understanding,  and  which 
truly  '  passeth  all  understanding.'  It  is  worth  all  that 
has  been — all  that  I  know  must  yet  be — to  see  these 
poor  heathen  learning  to  understand  something  of 
Good,  the  only  true  God, — omnipotent,  omniscient, 
omnipresent  Love.  It  is  worth  it  all,  to  see  them  ceas- 
ing to  hate  and  learning  to  love.  And  the  little  chil- 
dren !  But  you  know  better  than  I  what  it  means  to 
watch  the  pure  child  thought  unfold  in  Mind,  revealing 
the  whiteness  of  Soul.  So,  little  sister,  Good-bye.  The 
call  has  come,  bidding  me  work  out  the  harder  problem 
in  one  of  the  great  cities  of  the  earth,  where  the  need 
is  urgent  and  the  labourers  still  too  few,  and  I  am 
ready,  little  sister,  to  obey. 

"  It  is  with  a  heart  full  of  joy  that  I  make  my  prep- 
arations to  return  to  England.  As  you  know,  the 
Duke  and  Duchess  of  Westmoreland  are  at  work  in  a 
busy  centre  where  I  shall  shortly  join  them;  and  Robby 
"Campbell  is  also  there.  Then  Malcolm  will  always 
spend  the  long  vacation  with  me.  Lady  Margaret 
often  writes  to  me, — happy  letters,  full  of  that  vitalis- 
ing loving  kindness  which  characterises  her  every  word 
and  work — and  I  am  at  rest,  remembering  that  she  is 
by  your  side,  ready  to  help  you  should  you  ever  need 
the  touch  of  a  brother's  hand.  Thus  the  joyous  work 
goes  on,  and  will,  *  until  we  all  come  in  the  unity  of 
faith  and  of  the  knowledge  of  the  Son  of  God,  unto  a 


365 

perfect  man,  unto  the  measure  of  the  stature  of  the 
fulness  of  Christ.'  " 

,.i  •  r«i  r«i  :•) 

It  was  early  morning.  A  little  child,  round  of  face 
and  bright  of  eye,  whose  smooth  black  limbs  spoke 
of  suppleness  and  strength,  pulled  at  its  mother's 
hand.  "  Look ! "  he  said,  "  look,  my  mother !  " 

The  woman's  dark  face  lightened  with  a  tender 
smile,  as  she  turned  and  watched  a  white  man  cross 
the  head  of  the  plantain  grove  and  swiftly  ascend 
a  rugged  mountain  path.  Then  she  bent  and  kissed 
the  child.  "  Beloved,"  she  said  (her  heart  had  rested 
upon  the  sweet  English  word,  and  she  had  made  the 
white  man  tell  her  something  of  what  it  meant),  "be- 
loved,"— and  with  soft  accent  she  lingered  over  the 
syllable  which  had  to-day  much  meaning  for  her — 
"  yesterday  the  white  man  said  this  to  me,  '  It  is  not 
the  will  of  your  Heavenly  Father  that  one  of  His  little 
one  should  perish,'  and  to-day!  why  to-day,  he  has 
proved  those  words  to  me,  for  to-day,  he  has  given  thee 
back  to  me  " — and  the  woman  lifted  the  child  and  held 
him  to  her  breast,  while  she  crooned  soft  words  above 
his  head — "  when  I  thought  that  thou  was  mine  no 
more;  back  to  my  heart,  my  little  one,  my  dear  be- 
loved." 

And  what  of  the  white  man?  Pursuing  the  road 
which  winds  at  first,  but  presently  turns  abruptly  and 
narrows  into  a  scarcely  visible  track,  which  leads 
straight  up  the  now  rapidly  rising  ground,  he  presently 
reaches  an  open  plateau.  From  this  height  the  view 
is  superb,  and  he  turns  to  rest  beneath  a  slender  acacia 
tree,  laden  with  its  snow-white  blossom,  while  he  drinks 
of  the  beauty  which  surrounds  him  upon  every  side. 


366 

This  is  the  hour  of  his  repose.  A  look  of  deep  content 
settles  upon  the  refined  face,  and  a  light  of  great  glad- 
ness shines  from  the  gentle  eyes. 

It  is  yet  very  early,  and  all  nature  is  fresh  and 
glad.  Robed  in  imperial  purple,  the  "  morning  glory  " 
opens  its  heart  to  the  sun.  Revelling  in  its  strength 
and  freedom,  the  great  convolvulus  trails  its  radiant 
loveliness  in  gorgeous  profusion  over  rounded  knoll  and 
yielding  branch.  The  white  hybiscus  shines  forth  in 
all  its  purity  and,  like  a  shower  of  forgotten  stars, 
baptises  the  earth  with  its  petals  of  silver  and  its  heart 
of  gold,  while  the  palm-decked  land  stands  ready  to 
receive  the  coming  brightness  of  the  early  day.  Now 
the  veil  of  cloud  is  rent  in  twain,  as,  revealed  in  all  his 
majesty  of  light  and  power,  the  sun  gleams  forth,  from 
glory  unto  glory,  opening,  with  caressing  touch,  each 
leaflet  and  each  bell.  Kissing  the  night's  tears  all 
away,  he  wakes  to  jewelled  splendour  the  dew  on 
grassy  blade  and  bending  bough.  Thus  reigning  su- 
preme o'er  earth  and  sky,  he  symbolises  the  everlasting 
Love,  forever  expressed  in  power  and  in  light. 

Here  let  us  leave  Robert  Saul.  He  stands  watching 
and  praying,  as  might  some  strong  sentinel,  keeping 
lone  vigil  at  a  far  off  post. 

We  leave  him  where  he  loves  best  to  be,  standing 
waiting,  with  the  pure  loveliness  of  the  new  day  about 
his  feet  and  the  radiance  of  heaven  upon  his  brow,  but, 
ere  we  turn  away,  let  us  listen  with  heads  bent  low  and 
hearts  at  peace  to  the  consecration  of  a  life.  Impelled 
by  holy  thought,  ever  looking  upward,  pressing  on- 
ward, these  words  well  up  in  a  heart  that  is  overfull, 
and  find  soft  utterance  through  reverent  lips. 

"Love,  oh,  Love!     I  thank  Thee  that  Thou  hast 


THE     SEAMLESS     ROBE         367 

called  me  to  labour  in  the  vineyard  of  the  Lord.  Eter- 
nal Trinity  of  Life  and  Truth  and  Love!  My  past, 
my  present  and  my  future,  all  are  Thine.  Father,  I 
know  that,  ere  I  can  call,  Thou  hast  answered  me.  I 
know  that,  while  I  yet  speak,  Thou  hast  heard  my 
prayer.  *  At  the  time  appointed '  Thou  wilt  reveal  the 
Truth  to  all  mankind — the  Fatherhood  of  Life,  the 
Motherhood  of  Love,  the  Brotherhood  of  man,  the 
glories  of  a  universe  in  Mind.  And  I  thank  Thee,  even 
through  all  eternity,  I  thank  Thee. 

"  Oh,  holy  Nazarene !  now  as  aforetime  Woman  sits 
silent  at  the  feet  of  Truth  and  learns  again  the  eternal 
lore  of  Love.  Oh,  healing  Christ !  thou  loving  Saviour 
of  the  world,  the  free-born,  bending,  touch  thy  seamless 
robe ;  prostrate,  they  kiss  the  hem  of  purity  and  peace ; 
and  rise  to  follow  Thee,  while  the  '  white  wings  of  the 
Holy  Ghost '  brood  o'er  each  upward  path,  translating 
matter  into  Mind.  Thus  are  the  meek  baptised  anew 
in  a  living  love  for  infinite  Good ;  thus  shall  a  universe, 
including  man,  one  day  reflect  its  God." 


EPILOGUE 

And  if  it  seem  evil  unto  you  to  serve  the  Lord,  choose 
you  this  day  whom  ye  will  serve;  whether  the  gods  which 
your  fathers  served  that  were  on  the  other  side  of  the 
flood,  or  the  gods  of  the  Amorites,  in  whose  land  ye  dwell: 
but  as  for  me  and  my  house,  we  will  serve  the  Lord. 

— Joshua, 

A  WOMAN  stands  high  upon  a  wide  hillside,  beneath  a 
dome  of  golden  light,  and  points  to  the  mountain  peaks 
above. 

Like  a  tender  benediction,  her  farewell  falls  upon  the 
waiting  thought  that  fain  would  tread  the  winepress 
by  her  side. 

"  Nay,  dear  heart !  I  would  not  wed  as  mortals  wed. 
Yet — 'tis  not  for  me  to  say  what  thou  should' st  do; 
nor  may  man  make  by  use  of  mortal  will  a  single  move 
in  front  of  God,  for  'tis  only  by  reflecting  Mind  that  he 
can  safely  scale  the  heights  from  sense  to  Soul.  More- 
over, man  is  ever  individual,  and  ever  free  to  choose 
or  lose  the  best — to  wed  himself  to  God,  or  to  give  his 
life  for  that  which  is  not  gold.  Yet,  while  I  take  my 
hand  from  thine,  I  point  thee  to  the  marriage  of  the 
Lamb  and  tell  thee  that  which  I  for  long  have  known, 
that  they,  who  are  accounted  worthy  to  obtain  the 
resurrection,  neither  marry  nor  desire  to  be  given  in 
marriage,  but  are  ever  as  the  angels — '  complete  in 
him.'  Thus  only  can  man  hope  to  die  no  more." 

A  man  stands  alone  upon  a  wide  hillside,  beneath  the 

368 


EPILOGUE  369 

full  white  light  of  a  noonday  sun,  and  searches  the  rock- 
ribbed  paths  beyond.  He  binds  his  sandals  on  his  feet 
and  takes  his  staff  in  hand,  while  he  whispers  to  his 
heart,  "  God's — will — be — done.  Fare  thee  well,  sweet 
vision  of  the  earth ;  for  ever  and  for  ever  fare  thee  well. 
That  which  woman  does,  with  a  heart  o'erfilled  with 
joy,  surely  man  may  likewise  do,  nor  need  he  thereby 
suffer  any  loss.  I  too  would  win  my  way  to  immor- 
tality; I  too  would  be — complete  in  Mind." 


FINIS 


A     0001312/0    V 


